41 Homage
by ARtheBard
Summary: A killer wants to celebrate his heroes: infamous serial killers. Can the team find him before he finishes his twisted homage to death? Or will his madness continue to leave a trail they can only follow helplessly as they try to guess his next move?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Just a little taste of this next dance into darkness. (Hmm…note to self, use that "dance into darkness" line in a story.) I spent a lot of time researching the serial killers mentioned/copied in this story on the TruTV website. If I ever lack for an idea for an unsub I'm sure I can go back and delve into their depths for macabre inspiration.**

**Sit back, enjoy…and don't be scared of that creaking sound! ;o)**

**-AR**

* * *

Wednesday just before lunch time, Hotch storms into the bullpen. "Conference Room. Now."

The agents scramble to get their things and hurry in after their leader. They hear Garcia's heels clattering down the hall, a sign they are about to dive into the depths of depravity that speaks to a stressful case.

By the time the whole team is at the table, Garcia has the case info loaded and a crime scene pic on the flatscreen. It is a split image showing "Death to Pigs" on a wall and "Helter Skelter" on a refrigerator.

"Uh, Garcia, why is a picture of the LaBianca murders on the screen? Manson and his family have already been caught for that one. Is there new information?" Reid asks with confusion.

"It's not the LaBianca scene," Hotch states as he closes the door.

"But it- -" Reid starts.

"He's right," JJ interrupts. "The fridge it the wrong colour."

Reid closes his mouth, seeing she is right. "What the hell?" he mutters.

Hotch nods to Garcia.

"Syracuse, New York. They have had 3 murders in the last three weeks. The first, as you see, is a recreation of the LaBianca murders committed by the Manson Family. The unsub went so far as to bring with him a ivory-handled, two-tine carving fork which was used on the male victim. His wife was stabbed with a kitchen knife from their own set."

"Were they grocery store owners?" Emily asks.

"Close. They owned a convenience store which, as you know, does sell some groceries."

"And the messages were written in their blood?" Morgan confirms.

"Yes. This murder was done with eerie similarity to the Manson case. The only differences are there seems to be only 1 unsub and, as such, the wife was killed several hours before the husband got home from work," Garcia finishes.

"And you say this was just the first murder scene? So is this guy obsessed with Manson or what?" Rossi asks.

Garcia looks at him. "That would be 'or what', Senor Rossi." She clicks to the next image. "Anyone recognize this one?" The picture is cut into quarters showing 4 people dead. "I'll give you a hint: the oldest son returned home to find his parents and two younger siblings dead."

"Oh my God! BTK—the Otero family," Emily says.

"Bingo, Agent Prentiss. Again, the scene was eerily similar to the original."

"And my guess is the third murder represents someone else's crime?" Rossi says.

"Yes. This one was an LDSK who killed a bus driver."

"The so-called DC Sniper John Allen Muhammad," Morgan says as he drops his tablet. "So is this guy trying to figure out his own m.o. or what?"

"This feels more like an…an homage to the past than a guy trying to find his own way," JJ offers. "Taking the time to bring that carving fork to the first murder, planning and executing a whole family, setting up the scenes, this guy takes time to get things right."

Reid nods. "I agree. It's almost as if he actually brings pictures to the scene to make sure he gets it right. How long between kills?"

"Twelve days between the first and second. Six days between the second and third," Garcia says.

Hotch takes over the presentation. "Syracuse police noticed the similarities to other cases and that's why they called us in. They figure the unsub's only time frame is how long it takes him to find the perfect victim and perfect set up for the killer he wants to emulate. We need to hit the ground hard as we don't have a victimology to work with unless we profile every serial killer and every victim of the killers. The scenes are still secured so we can look them over. Something in there has to point us somewhere or he will strike again," Hotch warns as he stands. "Wheels up in 30. Garcia, you're with us. I want you onsite to check anything electronic that may come in. BTK sent floppy disks. Maybe this guy will, too."

"Yes, sir."

The team stands as one and hurries to their desks to get ready to go. On the way to the H3 Emily calls Francesca to let her know the team will be gone.

"Any idea how long, cara?"

"No clue. This one is…well…all of them are difficult but this one looks more difficult than most. We'll be in New York so at least it's the same time zone. As soon as we know more we'll be in touch."

"Okay. You and Jennifer be safe, cara. You're still getting over your bruising from the last case."

Emily smiles. "I know. We'll be as safe as possible. I promise."

"Take care, cara. Ti amo."

"Ti amo, Francesca." Emily puts her phone away. "She said to be careful."

JJ chuckles. "She does know who she was warning, right?"

Emily laughs, knowing they needed a bit of levity before plunging into a case that is sure to be anything but fun and lighthearted. As they pull up at the hangar JJ pauses before she gets out.

"Jen? You okay?"

JJ nods. "Uh, yeah just…the whole team again." She turns to her wife. "This time you included. Just gave me a shiver, you know?"

Emily reaches across the armrest and takes her wife's hand. "He's gone, Jen. We'll be fine."

JJ nods. "I know it just…it's silly but it just gave me a moment of apprehension." She takes a deep breath and opens her door. "Let's go. I'll be fine."

Emily smiles and nods. "Of course you will be. You're Jennifer."

JJ just chuckles as she grabs her go bag and briefcase before heading to the plane.


	2. Chapter 2

On the plane the team settles in to review the full case files. All of them shake their heads at the depravity of the unsub they are chasing. Garcia is already running the histories of the victims to see if there was anyplace they may have crossed paths, giving the team a place to look for the unsub.

JJ shakes her head. "I feel like I'm back in the courses I took last year."

Morgan glances up. "Maybe that's it. Maybe the unsub flunked out of the police academy or a criminal justice major in college. He's committing these murders to prove he knows crime."

Emily nods slowly. "Scarily that could be an angle to look into. Gar- -"

"Got it, Emster. Will start that search once I finish getting the financials going."

Emily smiles. "You rock, Garcia."

"Yes, I so totally do," the analyst agrees proudly.

The profilers all grin and get back to the grim information in their hands. As she studies a picture from the first crime scene, JJ keeps feeling like something more than just the color of the refrigerator is off. She minimizes that picture and does a quick search to pull up a copy of the original LaBianca crime scene. She studies the picture of the fridge carefully.

"Em, can I borrow your tablet a second?"

"Uh, sure," Emily says. She hands it over.

JJ pulls up the picture of the new murder site. She holds the tablets side by side, studying the words and the way they are shaped. Emily is looking over her shoulder and nods.

"I see it, too."

Morgan looks up at them. "See what? All she asked was to borrow your tablet."

"The words are amazingly the same with one exception. There's an additional mark after 'Skelter'. I can't make out what it is," JJ explains. "It could be a mistake but this unsub is so meticulous it may be his personal signature. Maybe the other scenes have something just slightly off the original, too."

Morgan nods and starts to flip through the pictures. Unfortunately the size of the tablet makes the comparison hard.

"It's a good thought. When we recanvas the scenes we'll need to watch for something like that," Rossi agrees from where he sits on the couch.

Hotch hangs up his phone and approaches his team. "I just got off the phone with the lead detective. The media has gotten word of these murders and our arrival. I'll take point with them. They are already calling the unsub "The Emulator."

"Ooo, scary," JJ says sarcastically.

Hotch gives a slight grin. "Needless to say people are terrified since they couldn't be told what to watch out for. I'll do my best to diffuse the situation but be aware the media will be dogging your steps."

"Lovely," Rossi gripes.

"When we land I'll head to the station with Reid and Garcia. Reid, let's attempt a geographic profile based on the backgrounds Garcia is running. Garcia, the detective will have an office set up for you to use for the duration of the investigation. He'll have a key so you can lock up your computers and keep people from nosing into them for information."

"Good, sir. Printer and high speed available?"

"Yes to both." The analyst nods. "The rest of you, I'd like you to go together to the three scenes. JJ, I heard what you noticed and it would help to have all eyes looking at once to make sure we see everything the unsub wants us to see. The trick will be determining if any anomalies are mistakes, a result of circumstance as the crime occurred, or deliberate actions by the unsub. I think we all know that as we speak he is most likely planning his next kill. Let's stop him before it happens."

* * *

Hotch extends his hand to the detective that meets the three agents at the station.

"I'm SSA Aaron Hotchner, this is SSA Dr. Spencer Reid and our technical analyst Penelope Garcia."

"Detective Phil Squires," he responds in way of introduction. "Damn glad you all could make it. This is one sick fucker," he glances at Garcia, "uh, apologies, ma'am."

Garcia grins. "It's okay. I actually concur with that assessment."

Squires smiles. "Well, let me take you to the conference room where the case boxes are. Agent Garcia, your office is right next door."

"Thanks. But I'm not an agent. Just Garcia is fine," she says with a smile.

He nods. "Understood. If you need anything else let me know." He hands her the key.

Garcia nods and goes in to get her computers up and running. Hotch and Reid had walked into the conference room. Reid sees the map he requested is already tacked to a board. Most of the case information is up, too.

"I know you all said you like to do your own boards but this is what Harry and I had done ahead of time. Feel free to move things around as you need too," Squires tells them. "Detective Harry Dillon is meeting the rest of your team at the scene of the Manson-style murder."

Hotch nods. "Very good. I'll let Reid get started in here. Can I meet with your media spokesperson and start working on a press release to try to curb the frenzy that is starting."

"Right this way," Squires says leading Hotch down the hall.

Reid moves to the map on the wall and starts to plot the locations of the murders from memory. He then plots the places people worked or went to school, including plotting the path the bus driver had taken on his route. Once it is all done he steps back and studies it.

"No clear lines of crossing," he mumbles. "So how does the unsub find you? What does he see that tells him you're the ones?"

With nothing more to do until Garcia finishes pulling the financial histories he starts to study the murder boards to see what needs to be adjusted for the team. He is impressed and not much has to be moved. He grins.

_"Bet one or both of them have been to one of our seminars_," he thinks to himself.

* * *

In her office, Garcia is talking to the three computers she has brought with her.

"Okay, guys, plan to be super busy until the case ends. I need you to work hard and find what I need as quickly as you can. No hiccups or hang-ups. Let's stop this sick puppy sooner rather than later."

"Um, Ms. Garcia?"

Garcia turns and sees a rather nervous young woman standing in the doorway. "Yes?"

"Uh, are you talking to your computers?"

Garcia grins. "Yep. Just giving them a pep talk before we get going."

The young woman smiles and sighs in relief. "I thought I was the only one that did that." She walks in and extends her hand. "Hi, I'm Trina Ware. I'm the researcher for the detectives. Squires thought I should introduce myself in case you need help or anything."

Garcia shakes her hand. "A fellow techie! I love it!"

Trina chuckles. "Me, too. It can get lonely with nothing but the computers to talk to. So, uh, if you need anything I'm two doors down."

Garcia nods. "Great. Well, once I get up and going I'll come see you if I need help or, more likely, just a break."

Trina smiles and nods. "Cool. See you around."

Garcia nods. "See ya."

As the other analyst leaves, Garcia looks at her computers. "Not often I have help, guys. Very nice. I love Syracuse already. Well, except for the murdering maniac we're up here tracking."

Garcia finishes her set up and gets to work pulling the histories of the victims, hoping to find the link between them all that will take the team to the unsubs lair.


	3. Chapter 3

Morgan pulls the SUV up in front of a house that would be quite beautiful if it wasn't surrounded by crime scene tape. A man leans against a car that could only be an unmarked police sedan. He stands as the four agents approach him.

"You're either the FBI team or more crazy gawkers."

Morgan grins. "FBI. I'm SSA Derek Morgan. These are SSA's Dave Rossi, Emily Prentiss and Jennifer Jareau."

"Harry Dillon. My partner Phil Squires is back helping the rest of you all get settled at the precinct," he studies Emily a second longer than the others, something the profilers all notice.

"Good. So, how did you all get the call to this scene?" Morgan asks, bringing the attention back to him.

"Store employees got concerned when neither of the owners showed up at the store. They called police and a couple of officers drove by just to check things out. Looking in the window they found, well, hell revisited."

Rossi nods. "Well put. Signs of forced entry?"

"Not that we could find. Could be she opened the door to the unsub. M.E. says she died about 4 hours before her husband so he had time to pose her just right and, hell, mutilate the body nearly exactly the way Rosemary LaBianca was. Right down to the same 41 postmortem stab wounds."

"Damn," Emily breathes.

Dillon nods. "Exactly. So, ready to go in?"

Morgan nods. "As ready as we'll ever be."

"I'll wait out here for you. If you need me come get me but I know you guys like to see things without input from the locals."

"Thanks," Morgan agrees.

A few minutes later the 4 agents walk into a scene that they had only ever seen in photos. Rossi shakes his head.

"When I was helping start the BAU this was one of the scenes we held up as never wanting to see again. Little did we know some sick bastard was going to hold it up as something to emulate."

They look over the scene in the living room, each agent picturing what it would have looked like with the murdered man laying there. The amount of blood left behind was something the pictures of the Manson scenes had not done justice to.

"That poor man," JJ whispers.

Emily walks over and looks at the words "Rise" and "Death to Pigs" on the walls. She holds her tablet up to compare them. They look nearly identical, the only differences being expected variations of the blood streaks and the slight changes in the shape of the letters due to the person writing them.

"These are more exact. Let's check out the fridge," she says as she walks into the kitchen.

The four agents study the strange anomaly at the end of "Skelter". It almost looks like a smear with 2 drip trails. Emily shakes her head.

"I can't tell if it's a mistake or not."

"I'd say not," Rossi says. "This guy made sure things were incredibly precise. I think he would have taken the time to wash that off if he'd done it by accident. He's controlled enough to pull these murders off, he's controlled enough to correct a mistake like this."

JJ nods. "I agree with Rossi."

The group then goes to the bedroom, where the wife had been killed. Again, the amount of blood is horrible. JJ shakes her head.

"I feel like I've stepped into a wormhole in time or something. This bedroom is…it's…too right."

Morgan nods. "I get what you're saying." He pulls up the bedroom from the original murder. "There is no way this woman just happened to have that clock in this room. Look around the house, they are into new gadgets. That thing is right out of the 1960's."

"We need to check with pawn shops, junk stores, places like that where the unsub may have found it," JJ states.

The others nod. This guy was seemingly going out of his way to make things perfect. Perhaps that is what would help catch him.

After another 20 minutes, the agents are sure they have seen all they can at this scene. They make their way outside to have Dillon take them to the next scene.

* * *

JJ takes a deep breath as she gets out of the SUV.

"A whole family. No fucking reason," she says.

Rossi nods as he gets out of the seat in front of her. "You can say that again, kid."

On the other side of the SUV Emily looks at Morgan. "This is an older house than the last one."

Morgan nods. "Unsub knew he had to find an older house in hopes of finding an exposed pipe like at the Otero house."

"True. But how did he know? He had to have seen the basement, had to know it would be there or he couldn't recreate the scene," Emily points out.

"We'll look around the outside to see if he could have seen inside. If not, he was here before he killed them."

Emily nods. "That's what I'm thinking."

The four agents go in after Dillon unlocks the door for them. Again, he waits outside as they go in to experience the scene themselves. The murders had been clean compared to the previous scene. Suffocation and strangulation meant no splashes of blood. They did see signs of struggle.

"The father wasn't hampered by a busted rib this time," JJ says bitterly. "He tried to fight back."

"But by that point his wife and kids were already dead. He panicked. The unsub didn't expect that," Morgan states. He bends down to look at the edge of a nightstand. He pulls on a latex glove and carefully pulls off a busted corner of it. "The glue is still new. The bastard fixed this because it was broken in the struggle. He had to fix it because there was no damage to furniture in the original crime."

Rossi frowns. "Is this guy OCD or what?"

JJ shakes her head. "No way. Someone with OCD couldn't handle anything straying from the original scene. Not even time of death."

Rossi nods. "Good point."

"But anything he can fix, he does," Emily points out. She suddenly frowns. She steps away from the others and goes to the kitchen and laundry room. "No signs of a dog." She looks into the backyard. "No signs out there, either. That's a slight difference." She goes back to the others. "This family didn't have a dog."

JJ nods. "Another change then. Definitely not OCD."

"Did anyone see how he could have known the son wouldn't be here?" Morgan asks.

JJ consults her tablet. "He'd had band practice that night. Didn't get home until after 8. His father was supposed to pick him up but, obviously, didn't show. A classmate's mother drove him home and was the one that called the police when the son came running out of the house after finding his parents. The mother entered the house to check on them and subsequently also found the brother in another room."

"Damn. So, he finds the right house, the right family combination, and then bides his time, allowing him to kill them one at a time instead of having to kill them all at once like BTK," Morgan recaps.

"The added time gives him the chance to make sure everything is perfect for his fantasy," Emily states. She frowns. "Not fantasy, his homage. He is paying homage to well-known serial killers. This guy has killed before but hasn't gotten the recognition he desires."

"Shit. So maybe these killings are just a break for him; a chance to do something other than obey his own urges," Rossi theorizes.

Emily whips out her phone. "Garcia, when you have a chance, check unsolved murders with similar m.o.'s in the state of New York. There's a good chance this guy has his own original set of murders and wants the recognition these other killers have gotten."

"Oh, that is too fucking twisted for words, Emster. I'll get that going now."

"Thanks, Garcia," Emily says as she pockets her phone. "I'm going to look around outside to see if he could see into the basement. I'll also check the phone lines to see if they were cut like at the Otero house."

The others nod and head to the basement as Emily goes outside. She finds a small vent-like window leading into the basement. She lies down on the ground and tries to look in. The window is covered with years of grime, inside and out. She can see movement but can't make anything out clear enough to see that there is a drainpipe. She jumps in fright as someone speaks beside her.

"Agent Prentiss?"

"Shit!" She blurts. She looks up to see Dillon standing beside her, confusion on his face. "Hi. Just checking to see if he could have known about the drainpipe by looking in the window."

The detective grins and offers his hand to pull her up. "Ah. Good idea."

She stands and dusts off her suit. "Do you know where the phone box is?"

He nods and leads her around to the side of the house. She puts on her gloves and uses a multi-tool to open the box.

"Son of a bitch," Dillon mumbles as he sees the cut phone line. "Never even looked in there."

"Dennis Rader cut the lines to the Otero house in case one of them got to a phone."

"Shit. I…I didn't know that."

Emily nods. "Not many people do. I only know because I read the transcripts of his confession on the plane."

"Damn. So this is pretty exact?"

"Pretty close. He chose this family carefully. And there's a damn good chance he was in this house before he killed them. We need to see if they had any repairmen in recently. Or it could be he broke in, scouted the place and then left to plan the kills."

"This is one sick bastard," Dillon says, shaking his head.

"Yes, he really is," Emily agrees.

In the basement, the team had seen the shadow of Emily outside the window but had also concluded there is no way the unsub could have seen anything in the basement.

"He was in here. He knew the pipe was here," Rossi concludes.

"Yep," Morgan nods.

"But why this family? Was it just that they had the right combination of people and the right basement?" JJ asks.

Rossi shrugs. "Could be something as twistedly simple as that. Or there could be something else that put them on his radar. We won't know until we finish the victimology."

JJ nods. "Right."

The three move out front to find Emily and Dillon waiting.

"He cut the phone lines. Dillon has called for a tech to come out to dust for prints and take impressions of the cut patterns," she relates to them. "I can guess you all couldn't see out any better than I could see into the basement?"

"Saw shadow and that was it," JJ confirms.

"So he had to go in at some point and confirm there was still an exposed drainpipe. Even with the age of the house, renovations could have at some point covered the pipes. He wouldn't take that chance," Rossi says.

Morgan gives a slight chuckle. "Is it just me or is it too fucking twisted he'd risk getting caught for a B&E to commit the perfect murder?"

Emily chuckles. "I agree. But I guess Breaking & Entering is a necessary part of his desire to get things right."

"So, ready to go check out the bus driver's death?" Dillon asks.

The agents nod and head off to a local park area.

* * *

Dillon gets out and stands near a curb.

"The bus was here, waiting to get going for the day. He would have pulled away at 6:03. First passenger said he was just sitting in the seat, not standing in the stairwell like the DC Sniper's victim. As she went to get on she heard glass shatter, he grunted and slumped over the steering wheel. It took her a second to realize that the wet she could feel on her cheeks was the victim's blood."

JJ looks off into the distance. "So the shot came from that line of trees?"

Dillon nods. "Yep. Found the shell casing for a hunting rifle, not a Bushmaster, another variation from the original scene. Truth is, if this hadn't been the third murder to resemble a previous series of killings we may not have realized it was the same unsub."

"I can understand that."

"The bus is in our impound lot if you want to check it out. He left a fucking tarot card at the scene. That's in the evidence room."

Morgan nods. "We'll want to see both."

The four agents cross the street to see what they can see from the shooter's vantage point. The other three step back and let JJ take the lead.

"What are you three doing?" she asks in confusion.

Morgan looks at Emily. "What's your shot rating?"

"Nothing compared to my wife's," Emily says proudly.

JJ rolls her eyes as Rossi gestures to the place the shooter had set up. JJ kneels down but bushes block her view. She lies down and now has a clear view of the corner. In her mind she sees the bus sitting there.

"He had to shoot the guy while he was in the seat. Had he been standing in the stairwell like Conrad Johnson was he wouldn't have had a clear shot. It was dark. I bet he waited for Johnson to open the door. That would have lit the light up at the front of the bus and given him a perfect halo to shoot into." She looks over her shoulder at the others. "I shoot, I stand," she walks it through, "toss down the card near the casing and simply walk out that way," she points to where the woods back to another sidewalk. "My car is probably parked over there. I get in and drive away before the first responders are anywhere near the scene. It's early probably not much traffic so I don't even have to worry about getting slowed up too close to the scene."

Rossi nods. "Good thought." He walks out to the sidewalk and looks both ways up the street. "No traffic cams. He wouldn't even be caught on tape leaving the scene."

"Gun had to have been in a case," Emily points out. "Even if no one thought anything about it at the time, when the news broke someone would have called it in if they saw a guy with a gun in his hand near this area around the time of the shooting."

Morgan nods. "Let's head to the impound lot and check out the bus."

"One thing to keep in mind," JJ says. "He had to have been a hell of a shot to make it a kill through the window."

Emily nods. "You would know."

JJ's eyes darken and she glances away. "Yeah…I would."

Nothing more can be said as they all remember the two shots JJ had made through glass to save first Garcia, then her wife, son and parents.

The group next follows Dillon to the impound lot. Though there isn't much to see, they study the bus. A single gunshot through the drivers' side window had proved fatal for a man just a year from retirement. The father of 3 and grandfather of 7 had been dead before his head hit the steering wheel.

Emily sighs. "All this tells us is the unsub is one hell of a shot to make that from distance."

"Maybe we're looking at someone who flunked out of the academy or a criminal justice major after time in the military?" Rossi suggests, expounding on the earlier theory.

"Could be a hunter, too," Morgan points out. "The use of a rifle versus a Bushmaster is a variation that could be due to the fact he is more comfortable with that sort of firearm."

"Look, let's head to the station and see what Garcia and Reid have come up with," Rossi suggests. "Maybe we can start to find the places the unsub crossed paths with his victims."

Dillon nods. "Agent Prentiss? Would you mind riding with me?"

Emily is surprised. "Uh, no problem."

The other agents go to the SUV as Emily follows Dillon to his sedan. Morgan grins at JJ in the rearview.

"Crush or business?" he asks.

JJ laughs. "Business. Maybe," she hedges with a wink.

The three agents chuckle, knowing they will probably have a good chance to pick on Emily later.

In the sedan, Dillon pulls out onto the street. "Last year you spoke at a conference in Albany."

Emily nods. "Yes, I did. You were there?"

"Yep. Squires and I both. That's why when we saw this shit we knew to call you. We tried to get the captain to call you in after the second one but he was reluctant to hand it off the Feds. He has a beef with you all for some reason, not sure why. He may act like an ass but he's a good cop. Despite what he says or does Squires and I have your backs. I just wanted you to know that."

Emily smiles and nods. "Thank you. That's all good to know. Trust me when I say we only care about stopping the unsub. The arrest, the positive publicity are all yours. We'll even shoulder anything negative to help you all save face in your own community."

He nods. "I know. We talked to a couple guys at the conference you all had helped out. They said the press blew up about police inefficiency and your spokeswoman stepped up and said that you all were the ones that made the mistakes but that you were working to correct them with help from the locals. And when they took the bastard down, you all disappeared letting the cops take the glory. They said the truth was they had never seen anything like that perp before and made a ton of mistakes. They learned a lot about procedure and what the BAU teams do."

"We really are just a tool for the police to use. We want the unsub stopped and we want to learn about them so that in the future hopefully another sicko can be stopped sooner rather than later," Emily tells him.

"I know. And let me say I'm damn glad to have you all here."

Emily smiles and nods. "Thank you. Let's hope it's a quick trip for us."

He chuckles, seeing that it is the hope that they stop the unsub soon.

When they get to the station Emily goes to the SUV to get her briefcase. Morgan sidles up to her.

"So, Prentiss, got a date later?"

Emily smiles at him. "As a matter of fact I do."

JJ's eyes get wide. "What?"

"I've got a date with a hot blonde FBI chick. I think you might know her," she says with a wink at her wife.

Rossi chuckles. "Good one, Prentiss. So then why the ride-along?"

"He saw me speak last year in Albany. He warned me the captain wasn't thrilled about calling us in but said he and his partner are on our side. They just want to stop this guy."

"Good to know about the captain," JJ says. "If Hotch doesn't know already I'll warn him and plan to be peacemaker if needed."

"Good. But, uh, if you give him a list of references, how about leaving out the one guy that hates my guts this time?" Emily suggests.

JJ laughs. "Uh, right. I'll make that change."

As one the team makes their way inside to start working up a profile of their unsub.


	4. Chapter 4

Hotch steps into the conference room and closes the door. "So, what did the scenes tell us?"

Rossi shrugs. "So far what it tells us is he's a hunter. He takes the time to find the right victim, even the right location, to recreate these crimes. There is almost a degree of love in the attention to detail he is showing."

"He has studied these crimes, probably has pictures and books on them that he uses to plan the attack and then carry it out," JJ adds. "He wants them to be perfect but he wants us to know they are his work, not the work of his idols."

"How do you know that?" Hotch asks.

JJ walks over and hands him the Tarot card. Though it has the same four statements on it that John Allen Muhammad had used there is a small anomaly at the end of the statement on the front.

"It says 'Call me God' but then look at this. It's smaller but that's the same logo, for lack of a better word, after 'Helter Skelter'. He wants to know these are his kills, not theirs."

Hotch nods as he stares at the card and the almost jellyfish like symbol. "Okay, so that's appeared twice now. What about at the second scene?"

"If that was to pay homage to BTK I think we should expect something to be sent to the police and/or to news outlets soon," JJ says. "I bet that is where we'll find this symbol once more."

Hotch nods. "Okay, so if we do we will have a definitive tie to all 3 scenes. That still begs the questions what the hell is this symbol, who the hell is doing this, and who is next?"

"Sadly, we have hundreds of killers to choose from," Rossi answers.

Reid shrugs. "But let's look only at the ones that captivated the public. This guy is after the ones that were in the media: Manson, BTK, DC Sniper. Let's run down the ones that really captured the public's attention on a national level."

"Bundy," JJ offers up.

"Dahmer, Gacy," Morgan adds.

"Jack the Ripper, Zodiac, Hillside Stranglers," Hotch says.

"Boston Strangler, Green River Killer," Dillon adds.

"Crap, that's still a lot to look into and we've only scratched the surface," Reid admits with a frown.

"So let's go back to this unsub. What do we know?" Hotch moves to a whiteboard.

"He's willing to make slight changes for his own comfort. For instance, using a hunting rifle versus a Bushmaster," JJ points out.

"He goes out of his way to make the scene right. Bringing the fork, fixing the nightstand, bringing the clock and Tarot card," Morgan adds.

"He's done his homework, not just on the killings but on the people he kills. He knows he can make them fit his delusion," Emily offers up.

"He's driven to kill and driven to make the scenes right. Do we think these are his first kills?" Hotch asks.

Emily shakes her head. "We think he may have killed before but has not gotten the attention he wants. He is doing these homage kills to honor them because they got the attention he didn't. I've got Garcia looking at open cases that have similar m.o.'s all over New York."

Hotch nods. "I can see that. Let me know what she finds." Emily nods. "Okay, anything else?"

No one has anything to add. Hotch checks his watch. "Alright, it's 4:30. Let's get working on the case files and see if it can help us hammer anything else out. Barring a major lead we'll call it a night at 6."

The team nods and each one grabs an evidence box and starts to pour over the collected evidence with fresh eyes. Dillon and Squires walk up to Hotch.

"Is there anything more we can do for you all tonight?"

Hotch shakes his head. "Nothing I can think of. Right now we need to look at what you found without influence from you." He grins. "We're only human and can be easily swayed unintentionally by suggestion. Hopefully by 10 a.m. tomorrow we can meet with you two and give you a preliminary profile."

"Sounds good. If you need anything, give me a shout. I'll be at my desk doing some paperwork," Squires tells him.

Dillon grins. "And I, for once, am getting out of here in time to eat dinner with my family. I'll see you all tomorrow."

Hotch shakes their hands as the detectives leave. He grabs a case file and immerses himself into the case, hoping his team can find something that will stop this madness before someone else dies.

* * *

It is 6:15 before the team finally calls it a night. Garcia had brought in the financial records and Emily plans to hit them first thing in the morning with Reid. Her search on unsolved murders is still running since it is cataloging them by m.o., murder weapon, and several other factors. Sadly, she knows it will be a huge list of crimes the team will have to pick through.

They go first to the hotel to check in…and give the Prentiss women and Hotch a chance to call their children before dinner.

"Hi, Francesca," Emily says as their nanny answers. "Henry and Rocky still being good?"

Francesca smiles. "Of course they are. Henry, would you like to speak with Batman and Spiderman?"

"MAMA! MOMMY!" Henry yells happily.

Emily's smile widens as she hears his feet running towards the phone. She looks at her wife, who stands beside her, listening on speakerphone.

"I will never get tired of hearing his excitement."

JJ smiles and hugs her wife. "Me, neither."

"Hi, Mama! Hi, Mommy!"

"Hey, Little Man," JJ answers. "You being good for Franny?"

"Si, Mommy! Wok, too!"

She chuckles. "That's good. You're a good big brother to show Rocky how to be good."

"Si, I am."

Emily grins. "And humble, too, Champ."

He just giggles, having NO idea what humble means but knowing it seems to make his Mama happy. He launches into a long description of his day. It is wonderfully settling to his mothers.

"Sounds like you had a great day, Henry," JJ says as he finishes. "We're going to be out of town a couple days getting the bad guys. Think you can help Franny keep Rocky safe?"

"Si, Mommy. Ska help, too. Love Wok. Love Fwanny."

JJ smiles. "Good boy. I love you, Henry."

"Love you, Mommy."

"I love you, too, Champ. Give Rocky a kiss for both of us, okay?"

"Kay, Mama. Love you, Mama."

"Love you, too, Henry."

He hands the phone to Francesca. "Still no idea when you will be home, caras?"

"No idea yet, Francesca," Emily confirms. "As soon as we have an idea we'll let you know."

"Okay. You two be safe and do not worry about us. We will be fine just missing you until you come home."

JJ leans her head on her wife's shoulder. "We'll be missing you all, too. Love you, Francesca."

"Love you, too, cara. Speak to you tomorrow."

"You got it. Ti amo, Francesca," Emily says.

"Ti amo, Emily."

Emily hangs up and leans her head onto her wife's. "You okay?"

"I'm good. You?"

Emily nods. "I'm okay. They are loved and protected." She turns and stares into her wife's eyes. "I'm lucky, Jen. We had a support system established for Rocky that you didn't have for Henry. I'm sorry I didn't recognize the need for a live-in nanny sooner."

JJ strokes a hand down Emily's cheek. She studies the bruises still healing on the pale skin. "If you had, we wouldn't have Francesca. Everything happens for a reason, baby. I believe that wholly and completely. Regardless of when she came, she's with us now and I am much happier for it."

Emily gives her a soft kiss. "Me, too. For Henry and Rocky and any other little Prentiss' that come about I'm happy to have her."

JJ kisses her wife again. "Come on, let's get to dinner. Then maybe we can come back here and work on making a new Prentiss or two."

Emily chuckles. "Thanks for putting that thought into my head as we go to dinner."

JJ slaps her good naturedly. "As if that thought hadn't already crossed your mind, you horn dog."

Emily's laughter follows JJ to the door as they go out to meet the team for dinner.


	5. Chapter 5

Evan Krautman stares up at the third-floor apartment window of 55 year-old Elizabeth Monroe. When he sees it wink off, he drops his cigarette and crushes it out with his boot. He then picks it up and stuffs it in his pocket just in case the police collect any trash evidence in the streets around the building.

He crosses the street, not walking too fast or too slow. He's just another guy making his way home for the night. No one notices him. At the doors to the apartment building he makes quick work of the lock, picking it efficiently, leaving no scuff marks behind. He has perfected his one-handed ability over many years and to anyone watching it would have looked like he had a key.

Pulling his dark baseball cap low over his head he steps into the lobby and makes his way to the stairs. Previous scouts of this building had shown cameras in the elevators and lobby but not the stairwell.

"_Because most people are lazy and take the elevator,_" he thinks to himself as he starts up to the third floor.

When he reaches his target floor, he pauses outside the door, listening. He hears a man and a woman speaking, though he can't make out the words. It's okay. He is patient. He has all night to make things right. Thirty minutes later he hears the conversation end. A few seconds later he hears the elevator door open and the sound of an apartment door close. He makes himself wait another 30 minutes to make sure whoever left isn't coming back. Satisfied that the coast is clear, he moves into the hallway.

Had anyone seen him, he'd have played "the confused drunk." But no one is in the hallway. Once again it takes him no time at all to pick the two locks on the apartment door and enter. He slides a thin bolt cutter through the gap in the door and snaps the security chain with little effort.

When the door closes behind him, he locks the door. He stands in the darkness, letting his eyes adjust. Once he can see clearly by the dim light filtering in through the curtains he moves towards the hallway that leads to the bedrooms. He keeps to the often unused sides of the hallway to avoid creaking floorboards. He checks the first room he comes to which is set up as an office and is empty, as expected. The next room is a bathroom. The third room, with the door closed, is his target's.

He listens, his ear pressed to the door until he hears the rhythmic breathing of someone asleep. He slowly opens the door and steps inside, closing the door behind himself. He looks around until he sees the bathrobe thrown over the chair beside the bed. He moves to it and slowly extracts the belt, twisting it around his hands like a garrote.

Still Elizabeth Monroe sleeps unaware that she will never see the light of day again.

Krautman steps to the bed and stares at the woman. Just like the Boston Strangler's first victim Anna Slesers she will die by strangulation. He pauses, trying to see if he has any remorse for her death but he doesn't. He has been born to kill, just like his idols.

As she rolls to her side, he moves. The belt is around her neck and being pulled tight before she can come fully awake to see this isn't a nightmare. She doesn't even get a chance to scream for help as he chokes her unconscious.

Once she is out he pulls the covers back. From his pocket he pulls a commemorative baseball bat he'd found at a junk store. He uses it to molest the woman, making sure that the M.E. would know it happened but not know what did it. When he finishes he smiles and finishes choking her until she is dead.

"Just like Albert DeSalvo…or whoever the real Strangler was," he says proudly.

Krautman pulls out a small tablet computer and studies the crime scene photo of Anna Slesers. He carefully poses the body of Monroe until she looks just like the woman from 1962. He steps into her bathroom and rinses off the bat. He looks around and places it on a shelf full of knickknacks. No one would look twice at it.

Finally it is time to leave his tribute to his predecessors. He uses the woman's own fluids to draw the symbol he had left at two previous scenes and that will appear on the letter the police should be getting the next day. As long as the m.e. uses a black light on the body he would find the symbol on the woman's thigh.

"Thank you for helping me celebrate greatness, Elizabeth," he says to the body.

He goes back to the door of the apartment, once more listening carefully for any sounds in the hallway. Sure there is no one out and about, he eases into the hallway, leaving the door just a little ajar to ensure the body will be found by curious neighbors or the apartment manager.

He gets to the street and down the block to his car without being seen by anyone. He drives away into the night to plan his next celebration.


	6. Chapter 6

The team is back at the station by 7:30 the next morning. The captain showed up at 7:35 demanding a full report by 8. Hotch and JJ had gone to take care of that, leaving the rest to continue pouring over the case files as well as the information Garcia had found for them.

Emily and Reid are reading down the financial reports. So far no gym, grocery store, school, department store or anyplace else had been common. Emily suddenly looks up.

"He got into the houses. What utility companies are they using?"

Reid grabs that stack and starts to read through it. He grins. "The good news is they used the same gas, electric and phone companies."

"And the bad news?"

"They used the same gas, electric and phone companies," he says with a shrug.

Emily nods. "Which means hundreds of employees to investigate. There has got to be a way to narrow it down."

"We could have Garcia cross those employees with the flunked out lists?" he suggests.

Emily shakes her head. "There's no guarantee our unsub flunked out. Let her run that list first and we can narrow down possibilities from that list before looking at the utility companies. Then anyone that looks good we can see if they have a connection to the utility companies."

"What about a simple background check? See if any employees have a record?"

"That could work. What are the odds any have ever been convicted or accused of murder?" she jokingly asks.

"You really want an answer?"

She gets up to go see Garcia. "Not right now, handsome. Maybe later," she winks at him.

Reid chuckles as she walks out. Emily taps on Garcia's door and walks on in.

"Garcia, I know you are so wonderful that you can handle one more search."

Garcia raises an eyebrow. "Flattery gets you nowhere with me, lady."

"How about a day at the Red Door salon?"

Garcia quickly wheels her chair over to another computer. "And what search would you need, Agent Prentiss?" she asks efficiently.

Emily bursts out laughing. "We just need a quick background check of these three utility companies," she hands her a slip of paper. "See if any employees there, particularly those in customer service positions, have any records or even accusations. And, you know, I'm not saying to hack their databases, but I will say I bet the companies run those types of checks."

Garcia grins. "Oh, Emily, you say that as if I would _ever_ hack a database I shouldn't. How could you imply such a thing?"

Emily rolls her eyes in amusement. "Oh, how indeed?"

Before going back to the conference room, Emily detours to the break room for a cup of coffee. She finds Reid already doctoring his cup. She watches and as always shakes her head.

"Have some coffee with your sugar, Reid. Eesh," she teases.

He shrugs. "I need the caffeine just don't like the taste."

"Try a soda."

"I hate the bubbles."

She pinches his cheek. "You are so cute."

He pulls away and gives her a fake glare as he goes back to the conference room. On his way he hears a detective talking to the captain.

"…lived alone. Looks like she was raped and then strangled with her own bathrobe belt."

"Son of a bitch," the captain mutters.

Reid steps closer to them. "Uh, excuse me. Are you talking about the murder of a woman, maybe 55 years old?"

The captain looks at the agent suspiciously. "Yeah. What do you know about it?"

"The first victim of the Boston Strangler was a woman named Anna Slesers. She lived alone. She was raped with an unknown object and then strangled with her bathrobe belt."

The captain stiffens. "Look, kid, not every murder committed is going to be linked to your creep."

"I know that, sir. But this one most likely is. Let me guess: no sign of forced entry?"

The detective nods. "Yeah, that's right." He looks at his captain. "Look, sir, we've got a lot of nothing to go on. What could it hurt to have the Feds take a look at it?"

The captain glares at Reid a few moments before turning to his detective. "If they can't link it it's yours. You better work your ass off on it and not expect them to solve it for you."

The detective nods. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

The captain walks away. The detective hands Reid his notebook. "The scene is still secure if you want to take a look."

"Has the coroner moved the body yet?"

"Don't think so."

"Good! Call and ask that they leave it. It will help us."

The detective nods as Reid runs to the conference room.

"There's been another murder! Sounds like the Boston Strangler's first victim right down to sexual molestation with a foreign object."

Hotch looks at the table. "Reid, Rossi, JJ, go check it out."

The three agents nod and leave. Emily walks in as they are leaving.

"What's going on?"

"Fresh murder scene," Hotch tells her. "Keep combing the financials. We need a link to the victims and we need it now." He turns to Morgan. "Keep making notes on what we need to ask witnesses and family members when we re-interview them. As soon as you two are finished with what you're doing get out there and start questioning people."

Morgan and Emily nod. Hotch sits down and starts to write a press release praising the work of the local police and trying to minimize the impression that the late news had given that the FBI was swooping in to save the day; an impression that made the police captain hate the BAU presence even more.

* * *

When Garcia finishes "borrowing" information from the utility companies she has not only current employees with criminal records but also past employees and people that had applied but not been hired due to their records. She walks the information over to Emily.

"I was able to find 29 names for you to look into, Princess."

Emily takes the papers. "Excellent. And knowing you I have backgrounds on those 29?"

Garcia grins. "You say as if I'd give you incomplete information. The two on top are highest on the 'Garcia List of Creeps' and should be studied carefully."

"You're awesome, Pen," Emily praises her.

"Yes, I am," Garcia agrees. "And I'll be even more awesome after my day at Red Door. I'll let you know when." She turns and practically dances out.

Hotch never looks up from his typing. "No fair bribing the analyst for pushing your searches to the front, Prentiss."

Emily grins as Morgan laughs. "Gee, sir, what if it leads us to the unsub?"

"Way I see it, if she bribes the analyst she should bribe us all," Morgan interjects.

Hotch manages a grin. "Good rule. Remember it, Prentiss."

Emily chuckles. "You all are just jealous you didn't think to do it first."

She starts to look over the profiles Garcia had brought her. By the time she is done, she agrees with Garcia that the two on top were scum but she wasn't sure either was their unsub. She leans back in the chair, staring at the ceiling.

"_He makes it into the houses before he kills there. He knows the layout; knows exactly where to go. He knows it has everything he needs to complete the scene. For added realism he brings something with him: the fork, the clock, the Tarot card_." She frowns and sits up. "Shit. Where're the photos for the second murder?"

Morgan looks around and then pushes a folder towards her. "Why? What's going on in that nerd brain of yours?"

"He took something to authenticate the other two murder scenes. What did he take to this one?"

Morgan shrugs and leans on the table. "Good question."

Emily pulls up crime scene photos from the Otero murders on her tablet. She starts to compare them to their new scene. It is on her second pass through she sees it.

"A trophy."

"What?"

"There's a trophy in the Otero boy's room and in the room of our boy. We need to go check it out. What do you want to bet it's from the 70's?"

"Picked up at a junk shop or yard sale or something," Morgan says nodding.

"Most likely. It would make the scene complete in his head and who's going to look twice at it while investigating?" She looks at Hotch. "I'm going to start calling around to junk stores. He may have bought these old things at the same place or at least asked about them."

Hotch nods. "Go ahead. Time for me to get with the spokesman and get this release out to the public." He stands up. "Tell me again why the brass said we didn't need a media liaison?"

Emily smiles. "Because Jen is much cuter as a profiler and with your rugged good looks you're made for the camera."

Morgan bursts out laughing as Hotch glares at her. "Remind me again why we need as many profilers?" he asks pointedly as he leaves the room.

Emily and Morgan exchange a grin as Emily goes in search of a phonebook to start calling second hand stores in the area.


	7. Chapter 7

When the agents arrive at the apartment complex they find the coroner leaning up against the wall in the hallway.

"You the FBI?"

Rossi nods, flashing his credentials. "SSA's Rossi, Jareau and Dr. Reid. You haven't moved the body yet?"

"Only to roll her to check underneath her. Then I got the call to hold her for you all." He pauses a second. "You know, I studied a case like this in college. This is tied to the others, isn't it? The guy thinks he's DeSalvo now, doesn't he?"

"We won't know until we see the scene," Rossi says honestly.

The coroner nods. "Right. Well, have at it, agents."

The three walk in and make their way to the woman's bedroom. They stare at the woman lying on the bed. Her top sheet, blankets and comforter had already been bagged for evidence. JJ puts on her gloves and as compassionately as possible lifts the woman's nightgown. She winces.

"She was raped but the bruises are light. They came up as she was dying and they don't look…look like a man was between her legs."

"Slesers was raped by an unknown object, maybe something held in a hand," Rossi says sadly.

JJ nods and lets the nightgown back down. She starts to study the scene around her, looking for the symbol they had seen twice so far. Where could it be hidden? She brings her eyes back to the body.

"Oh, he wouldn't…" she mumbles.

Rossi glances at her. "What's that JJ?"

She looks around and sees the coroner's bag. She looks into and finds the black light. She looks at Rossi.

"Pull the drapes, Rossi. I have a sick idea about his little signature."

Rossi does as she requests. JJ turns the black light on and starts at the foot of the bed. She slowly walks up the bed, making sure to cover each part of the bed and Elizabeth Monroe. Finally on the inside of her left thigh she finds it.

"Son of a bitch," she grunts.

Rossi crosses himself as he sees it. Reid just swallows audibly.

"He signed her with her own fluids," Reid whispers.

JJ nods. "Most likely. Get a picture."

Reid snaps a picture with his phone as Rossi goes to get the coroner so he can get a picture for his records and make a note to run the DNA to confirm it was Monroe's not the unsubs. As JJ turns towards the coroner's bag a flash on the bookshelf catches Reid's eyes.

"Whoa! JJ, take the light to the bookshelf."

JJ walks over there and this time she sees the item lighting up, showing evidence of bodily fluids.

"It's a little baseball bat. Like you'd get at a game or souvenir store."

"What does it say?"

JJ leans close. "It commemorates the 1964 World Series winners, the St. Louis Cardinals beating the New York Yankees."

Reid frowns. "1964…strange."

JJ looks at him. "Why?"

"Slesers was killed in '62."

"But the Strangler was caught in '64. Maybe this is the unsub bookending the career of the killer."

Reid nods. "Could be. Or it could just be the only thing he could find that represented the years of that killing spree. Make sure to bag it as evidence for the coroner to test. It could be what he used to rape her."

JJ nods. She finds an evidence bag as Rossi and the coroner walk back in. Rossi takes the black light to show the coroner the symbol as JJ bags the bat. As she is noting all the pertinent information on the bag the coroner walks over and looks at it. He sighs and nods.

"Sadly I've been doing this enough years that I can say that is consistent with the bruising she shows. Catch this sick fuck, agents. Please."

"We'll do our best," JJ promises.

The agents leave the room so the coroner can collect the body. In the hallway, Rossi calls Hotch to let him know what they have found. After a few minutes he hangs up.

"We need to meet Squires at the second scene again. Emily saw something in one of the pictures that may have been left by the unsub."

"Another item from or signifying the era of the killings?" JJ guesses.

"Yeah. A trophy in the boy's room."

They get in the SUV and make their way over to the other site. When they arrive Squires is sitting on the front steps. He shakes his head as they walk up.

"Hope you don't mind but I already went in and checked. It's from 1991 so it can't be from the unsub."

Reid frowns. "Actually, the last victim he was convicted of killing died in 1991."

Squires sits up. "Oh, shit. I just…fuck, just thought 1970's when I think of BTK."

"Most people do," JJ concedes kindly. She looks at the others. "Another bookend to the killings."

Rossi nods in agreement. "Let's bag it. Call Emily and let her know about it. She's talking to junk stores about the things she's noticed. Might help to know what the trophy says in case that sparks a memory for someone."

They walk in and study the trophy a moment. JJ notes what it says and calls her wife.

"Em, we're looking at the trophy. It's for second place in the YMCA Youth Baseball League. There's no name on it but the date is 1991."

"But why 1991?" Emily asks in confusion.

JJ grins. "You mean I get to point something out to you, oh nerd of mine?"

"Jen…" Emily says warningly.

JJ chuckles. "You must have a headache. You're grumpy. The last kill Rader was convicted of is 1991. At the last scene we found a bat that was most likely the rape weapon commemorating the 1964 world series. So even though the murder emulated a 1962 slaying the item left behind was from the year the Strangler was stopped."

"He's trying to bookend the killers? But that doesn't make sense in the case of the LDSK. Johnson was the last victim and the Tarot card wasn't at the first scene."

"It may not be a complete necessity. It's just how it worked out these two times. Maybe finding the object to leave behind feeds which killer he copies."

Emily nods. "I can see that. I've found a store that remembers selling an old clock and a deck of Tarot cards to a guy. Morgan and I are going to go by and see their security tapes. I'll ask about the bat and trophy, too."

"Okay. After we're done here we'll be heading back to the station."

"Sounds good. Love you, sweetheart."

"Love you, too. Bye, Em."

JJ hangs up and turns to find Squires staring at her questioningly. He glances at her ring finger and back up. JJ smiles.

"Agent Prentiss and I are married."

He blushes. "Ah, okay. Sorry. Not my place to judge just worried you were, uh, you know…shit. Forget I said anything?"

JJ laughs. "You thought I was having an affair on my husband. I understand. It's okay."

"My, um, ex-wife she, uh, well, let's just say my hours gave her time to find comfort elsewhere. Guess it makes me a bit sensitive to stuff like that."

JJ lays a hand on his arm. "Understandable. I'm sorry for you. I hope you find someone who gets the job, hours and all."

He smiles. "Thanks. Me, too. You know, Dillon and his wife have been married 22 years. How the hell they managed it I'll never know. High school sweethearts and everything. Guess that helps me believe it could happen for me someday, too."

"It can. I have faith in you," she says with a wink.

He chuckles and follows her outside so they can lock up the scene and head back to the precinct.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Yes, I am bummed my Redskins lost today. BUT since they went from worst to first in the NFC East I am still so happy for them! They had a heck of a season. Now I just have to root for my second favorite team, The Texans. Kinda hoped to see a Skins-Texans Super Bowl. Maybe next year. :o)**

* * *

Emily and Morgan walk into a store whose motto is painted on the big glass window: One man's trash is another man's treasure.

Morgan smiles as he sees the huge array of items. "I could have fun in here just tripping down memory lane."

Emily grins. "Me, too." They walk up to the counter and Emily holds up her badge. "Hi, I'm Emily Prentiss of the FBI. I called you earlier?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'm Travis Smythe. Have the tapes we talked about pulled for you. Hope you don't mind but we're an old school system and it's truly tapes. Got a VCR and TV set up for you in the back."

Emily nods. "Thanks." As they walk to the back she asks him about the man. "Do you remember anything about him?"

"Only that it was weird that he wanted the trophy. Usually I end up having those around until they are broken and I toss them away or a school buys them for a play or something. Don't look for them but they usually come in when someone just drops off a box of junk they don't want but can't bring themselves to toss in the trash. But this guy was all excited to see it was a 1991 trophy. Said something about breaking his brother's years ago and was going to replace it as a gag gift for Christmas."

"Sounds plausible," Emily says.

"But add in the other things and, well, now I'm thinking I should have paid better attention to him. I'm sorry I didn't."

"Not your fault," Morgan tells him. "I'm sure you get plenty of people in here buying things that would be unusual to others. And I'm sure most people have a story behind the purchase."

Smythe smiles. "True. And the talkative ones make this job really fun."

Emily nods. "I imagine so."

"Well, here you are. If you need anything more let me know."

"Thanks, Mr. Smythe," Morgan says as the man goes back up front.

Emily sits down in the chair at the desk and hits play on the VCR. Morgan leans on the desk and they watch a man with a ball cap pulled low on his face walk in. He carefully walks through the store, at one point disappearing out of the camera shot, which is focused on the check out counter. When he reappears he is holding the clock and bat. He exchanges a few words with Smythe and starts back through the store again. Emily pauses the scene and backs it up a bit.

"Look, Morgan, he's checking his phone. What do you want to bet he's looking at either crime scene photos or confirming dates?"

Morgan nods. "Yep. Making sure he gets something authentic."

It is another five minutes before he appears again, this time with the fork, the Tarot cards, the trophy and a small clown figurine.

"Oh, God…a clown," Emily whispers.

"John Wayne Gacy," Morgan states. "Does this mean he's going after a kid next? Son of a bitch."

"Maybe. We need to tell Hotch. Morgan, Gacy's victims were buried in his house. What the hell is this unsub going to do to make sure we find the child?"

Morgan slowly shakes his head. "I don't know. He might…shit…bury the child at the kid's house. Police will search the place top to bottom. The victim would be found."

"Fuck," Emily says as she runs a hand over her face. "This guy is…is beyond…shit, he's just beyond."

"Yeah, he is. Look, let's get this to Garcia and have her pull the best pictures she can. If nothing else she can feed it into one of her programs and get a height and weight estimate."

Emily nods and ejects the tape. They thank Smythe for his help and he promises to call if the unsub returns. As they are about to leave something catches Emily's eye. She grins and walks over to pick up the old lunchbox. Morgan leans over her shoulder.

"Charlie's Angels? Cool."

Emily nods. "Yep. I'll be right back." She takes it up and pulls out a $20 bill. "Got a purchase, Mr. Smythe."

Smythe looks up and grins. "A childhood memory sparked, Agent?"

Emily shakes her head. "Actually, it's for my mother. Kind of an inside joke."

He rings up the sale. "I hope she enjoys it."

Emily nods. "Me, too. Thanks."

When they get to the SUV Morgan looks at his partner. "Why do I have a hard time believing the Ambassador collects old lunch boxes?"

Emily grins. "She, uh, did some background on someone that was hassling me. Said it made her feel like Kelly Garret."

Morgan laughs and points at the box. "She's more a Sabrina Duncan if you ask me."

Emily laughs. "I told her the same thing. Scary, Derek."

Morgan laughs and pulls out into the street so they can get the tape back to Garcia. "After we drop this off let's grab a bite to eat and start to question some of these witnesses again. We need to know if the victims had any issues with their utilities resulting in a visit. That could be our connection."

"Maybe. Maybe not. So far things are just too…too different to pinpoint who this guy is. I hate it, Morgan."

"Me, too, Princess. Me, too."

* * *

Garcia finishes typing in the search parameters to cross the list of thousands who flunked out of colleges and the police academies in the state against the red flags from the utilities search. Hopefully soon she will hear a happy little ping or two saying there is a match. Just as she hits enter, Hotch walks in holding a floppy disk. She pales.

"He sent a letter just like BTK?"

"Yes. If there is more on here, we need to know."

Garcia nods and pulls out a detachable drive that she plugs into her USB port. Since Hotch already has gloves on, he inserts the disk for the analyst. She does a quick scan of the disk.

"There is one file on here. From what I can see it's the only file. This may have been the first time this disk was ever used. There's not even anything here that's been erased."

Hotch sighs. "I was afraid of that. Copy the file so we can get this checked for fingerprints. I have a bad feeling we won't find any but we have to check."

Garcia nods and copies the letter to another disk. She ejects the disk and Hotch removes it carefully so as not to risk smearing any potential prints. As he leaves Garcia prints out the message. Though she doesn't want to, she reads it so she can figure out which BTK message it is mimicking. Once she knows, she prints that letter out, too.

"You, Mr. Unsub, are one sick, twisted puppy and my agents are going to put you away for a long, long time," she says to the papers as she carries them to the conference room.

She arrives just as Morgan and Emily do. Emily hands her the VHS tape and tells her what it contains.

"We need the best pic of him and if you can run it through your size and weight program that would help, too."

Garcia nods. "Sure." She points to a drawing on one of the murder boards. "What's that?"

Emily sighs. "It's a symbol we've found at each scene so far except the second. The killer is leaving it as his own little signature."

"It's in the letter."

"What?" Emily asks.

Garcia pulls out a copy of the new letter and shows her the bottom corner of it. "See, right in the last possible place that would appear when the page is printed. It's an embedded gif file."

"Son of a bitch," Emily mutters. "Good catch, Garcia. Now if only you knew what it was. I have to say, it looks familiar to me."

"I'll pull it out of the letter and get it in a search program. Hopefully it won't take long."

Emily nod, biting her lip. "If you can, concentrate on symbols of power or death."

"What kind of power?"

"Personal power, power of armed forces, that sort of power. Inner strength type power."

Garcia nods. "Will do. If that doesn't pop a hit I'll knock those parameters out and see what happens."

"Great. Thanks, Pen."

"No problem, Emster."

* * *

An hour later Garcia walks triumphantly into the conference room.

"I tracked down the jellyfish!" she announces.

Emily and Morgan exchange a look. "Um, translation?" Morgan requests.

"The little symbol that kind of looks like a jellyfish," she explains.

"Ah, okay. Lay it on us, Baby Girl."

"It's called an 'Amenta' and was the ancient Egyptian symbol representing the Land of the Dead. It was also used to represent the west bank of the Nile where the sun would set and where the Egyptians buried their dead."

Emily frowns. "So does this guy think he's some sort of god or something?"

"Or maybe a high priest of death," suggests Morgan.

"Or maybe it's something completely different." Emily tosses the stacks of financial records she'd been going through on the table. "What the hell is going on here, Morgan? What is he wanting us to see? What do we need to find to meet this guy? He wants us to know him otherwise why get so…so specific with these killings?"

Morgan taps his pen against the table, contemplating Emily's questions. "The main question is does he want to meet us or beat us? We, meaning cops, caught these past killers and made them folk heroes of murder. Does he want to relive their crimes and get away with them just to show he's that much smarter than them and us?"

Emily shrugs. "That's a damn good thought."

"You know, it's really freaky when you two get all into a killers head," Garcia says. "I'm going back to my cyber world now. Toodles!"

Emily grins as she leaves. She looks at Morgan. "How does she stay so…so…Garcia?"

Morgan grins. "I have no idea but I thank God every day she does."

"Me, too."

Further praising of Garcia stops as the other three agents return. Emily sighs when she sees the looks on their faces.

"It was the Strangler, wasn't it?"

Reid nods. "Yeah, it was. And it was definitely our unsub because he left his symbol behind."

"Oh, you mean the amenta?" Emily asks.

"The what?" Rossi questions.

"It's an Egyptian symbol that signified the land of the dead in the ancient world and later represented the west side of the Nile where the sun set and they buried their dead," Morgan explains. He shrugs. "Didn't everyone know that?"

He looks at Emily who shrugs as if it's common knowledge. Rossi and Reid glare at them. JJ rolls her eyes.

"Remind me to thank Garcia for finding what that meant," she says dryly.

Emily snorts. "What? It's so far-fetched that Morgan and I could have figured it out?"

"No, but you were just as baffled as us a little while ago. Only the all-knowing Goddess of the Internet could have tracked it down," JJ states.

Emily chuckles. "Damn, Morgan, next time we need to get any strange little symbol to Garcia before we let the others know it exists."

Morgan chuckles and nods. "You got that right."

Hotch walks in and shuts the door. "So, what do we know?"

Immediately levity ceases and they get to work.

"He's meticulous," Rossi states. "From finding the right victim, to the right location, to staging the scene."

"He's good at killing. He's pulled these off without leaving trace evidence and without having to stray from his plans," Emily continues.

"He's been to the locations before," JJ points out. "He had to know where security cameras would be in the apartment building and he had to know about the pipe in the family's home."

"How far have we gotten on the search through the utility companies?" Hotch asks.

Morgan pats the piles he is working on. "About halfway through them. So far no red flags. A couple of yellows I've set aside for further looks."

"What about the financials on the families?"

Emily pats the piles in front of her. "Not even halfway through. I could use a hand."

Hotch nods to Reid and Rossi. "Split the stacks and get through them." He looks at JJ. "I need you to come smooth things over with the captain. Turns out you forgot to edit your list of recommendations." He glances at Emily and back again. "Why the hell you can't take off the man that hates your wife?"

JJ blushes. "Oh, shit. I started to and then I started on something else." She looks at Emily, who looks peeved. "Sorry, Em."

"Who the hell is it anyway?"

"Remember the sheriff out in Reno?"

Emily grins. "Oh. Him. Hell, he deserved that slap. And I had pregnancy hormones so I really can't be blamed too much."

"Slap? Emily, you knocked him out!" Morgan says, laughing.

Emily shrugs. "Not my fault he has a glass jaw. And not my fault he grabbed my ass after I told him not to. Besides it could have been worse."

"How's that?" Rossi asks.

JJ chuckles. "I could have been around with my gun."

The team bursts out laughing as Emily just nods. Even Hotch has to agree with that one.

"Still, get his name off the list. We might have solved that case but now we've got this captain demanding Emily be removed from the case because she's a 'known trouble-maker' and is a detriment to 'department cohesion'."

"Meaning his officers laughed so hard they nearly peed themselves," Emily mutters in amusement.

Hotch grins. "Deserved or not, he's not a fan of yours and is doing his best to make sure everyone we come in contact with knows it. Come on, Jareau, let's go straighten this out before we have to send your wife home."

JJ grins and stands. "Okay. And, Em, I really am sorry."

"Right. We'll discuss it later, Agent Jareau," Emily says with a wicked lift of her brow.

The agents get back to work trying to find the link, the pattern, the one little connect that brings their unsub together with his victims.

* * *

Captain Nicholas Gibson glares at the agents across from him. "So you're saying she was responding to an alleged sexual pass and slapped him? It knocked him out!"

"It was not an 'alleged' pass. It was witnessed by several of his deputies as well as one of my other agents. He had made similar advances towards Agent Prentiss and she had asked him nicely to stop. When that didn't work, she slapped him. Unfortunately, he had what they call in boxing a glass jaw," Hotch explains. "He dropped like a light, stunning both Agent Prentiss, Agent Morgan, and the deputies."

JJ sits forward. "Captain, surely you can see the incident between Prentiss and the sheriff was of a personal nature and had nothing to do with the case. She is one of the best criminal profilers in the country. Her insight and intellect have led us to the unsub or helped us break cases many times. This whole team works as a unit. Our strength is in each other. Give us a chance to prove that. Give us a chance to stop this murderer."

Gibson stares at JJ for a moment, then turns back to Hotch. "She steps over the line a little, hell she steals a post-it note she's gone. Got it?"

Hotch nods, knowing he's not going to get anything better at this time. "Understood. Thank you."

He stands. JJ, stunned at Hotch's acceptance of that threat, also stands. As soon as they get back to the conference room, JJ spins on him.

"What the hell, Hotch? That's how you have our backs?"

The others look up, slightly uncomfortable about being in the middle of this confrontation.

"It's not about having your backs it's about seeing what he was willing to give us. He's giving us Prentiss with a ridiculous stipulation. To push him farther would have been to lose her."

Emily sits forward. "Uh, can I ask about the stipulation?"

Hotch looks at her. "No stepping over the line; don't even steal a post-it note."

Emily chuckles. "Damn. Remind me to put back the stuff I stole from their supply closet."

JJ glares at her, then turns back to Hotch. "But now aren't we going to have him hanging over our every move? Especially Emily's?"

Hotch nods. "Yes. So what? We do the job. Of all of us, I'd say Prentiss is the one most used to being scrutinized closely as she works considering her start with this unit."

Emily nods. "He's right, Jen. I can take the heat. Let's just find the unsub. And if his scrutiny of me gets too suffocating for everyone I can work from the hotel so he doesn't have to see me."

JJ lets out a breath. "Fine. I don't like it but fine. And Hotch? I'd have fought you on this no matter who it was, I hope you know that."

Hotch nods. "Never doubted it."

"Good. Because last time I had to fight for you I didn't capitulate to their demands." She winks. "Just so you know."

Hotch chuckles. "Guess I still have a few things to learn."

"Stick around, kid, I'll teach you everything I know," JJ teases as she grabs a stack of files and gets to work.


	9. Chapter 9

Trina Ware watches as Garcia carefully scrolls through the video tape from the junk shop until she finds the perfect three images to copy to a CD.

"So, what exactly does this get us since we can't see his face?" the younger analyst asks.

"I have a program, patent-pending, that will use markers around him to judge his height and weight. It will even take into consideration his clothes to give us the best all-around description of his body type which is very helpful in the winter when people are all bundled up. We'll also capture a few stills from the lobby camera at the latest scene. With two sets of images to choose from we'll get a very good idea of this guy's size."

Trina is stunned. "Too cool! Can I watch you do it?"

"Sure."

Garcia finishes copying the images she needs from the VHS tape and heads back to her office with the younger woman. She loads the three images first before popping in a copy of the CD that had been brought to her by Reid. She frowns when she sees there is no angle showing a head to toe shot of the suspect.

"Not good."

"What's wrong?" Trina asks.

"He obviously knew where the cameras were and how they were angled. See how he walks really close to the wall there? We can only get him from the waist up."

Trina stares at the frozen image a minute. "What if we went to the apartment and measured from the floor to that poster? Wouldn't that give us his height pretty closely?"

Garcia nods. "Yep. The negative is if he's wearing shoes with big soles or thin soles that can actually give us a larger margin of error. But maybe combined with the junk shop markers we'll be close enough. Up for a road trip?"

Trina grins. "Sure. Uh, well, maybe not. The captain isn't too fond of you guys. He'd probably be pissed I'm in here instead of working on other stuff."

Garcia grins. "Tell him you don't trust my set up and want to make sure I don't screw anything up."

Trina starts to laugh. "I like it! He'll believe it, too. Meet you in the lobby in a couple minutes."

Garcia nods and goes to tell Hotch what she has to do. The chief nods.

"Rossi, go with them to clear the way with the apartment manager."

Rossi nods and stands. "Right."

Thirty minutes later Garcia is taking the height and width measurements of the area in question. As she does Rossi is glancing at the images once more on his own tablet. He suddenly frowns.

"Garcia, does it look like he touches the wall for a second?"

Garcia walks over and look. "Where?"

"Here," Rossi says he plays the clip. He pauses at a specific point.

Garcia slowly nods. "Yeah, almost like he was feeling to make sure it was where he thought it was. That's strange."

"Could be he has some sort of eye problem. Maybe a blind spot in his left eye so he used his hand to guide himself."

Garcia nods. "Could be."

"I'm calling Squires to get someone out here to check for prints. He may have dragged his hand smearing the print but let's be sure."

Garcia nods. She and Trina stand in front of the area to make sure no one coming in or going out touches the area before the tech arrives.

An hour later a tech finishes and shrugs. "Got a partial. If he's in the system we may get a hit. If not I doubt it's enough to use in court."

"Get it running. Better yet, Garcia?"

"Right, Rossi. I'll get it into every database known to man," she says.

"Cool," Trina says enviously.

Garica just grins, loving having a fan.

* * *

At 5 p.m. Hotch runs a hand over his face as the captain storms into the conference room.

"Give me a decent report, Hotchner, or you're done."

Garcia walks in behind him and starts before the team does. "The unsub is 5'9 to 5'11 tall, approximately 162 pounds, give or take a donut." Hotch groans at the dig at the cops as the captain bristles. "His fingerprint is not in the system with a record, either criminal, military or other. But it is in the system for an unsolved murder in Rochester, NY from last year. Oh, and, we wouldn't know about the print if Agent Rossi hadn't seen the teensy-tinsy split second that the unsub dragged his hand along the wall," she says pointedly to the captain.

She then looks back to the team. "The killing in Rochester is similar to 3 other killings in that area. All young, single women, raped, beaten, strangled. But since the women were junkie prostitutes there was very little attention paid to their deaths. However, since the phenomenal Agent Emily Prentiss told me to look for unsolved crimes with similar m.o.'s they had already made one of our search lists. Add in Agent Rossi's fingerprint and we may have where our unsub started." She turns back to the captain. "Decent enough for you, sir?" she asks with a smile.

All the agents, Hotch included, had used every bit of self-control at their disposal not to laugh as the captains' face had slowly dropped the more Garcia had spoken. He slowly turns and nods to the team.

"Carry on," he grunts as he walks out of the room.

As soon as the door is closed behind him, the team starts to clap. Morgan gets up and pulls Garcia into a hug.

"You, Baby Girl, are my hero."

"Aww…keep saying things like that," she says with a proud grin.

Hotch takes the files from her and looks at the team. "Okay, tomorrow Morgan, Prentiss, start talking to witnesses and the HR contacts where red flags popped up. Rossi, JJ, head to Rochester and get a rundown on the linked cases. Let the detectives in charge know we'll help them get this guy on those as well. Reid, you and I will be visiting every junk store in the greater Syracuse area with the pictures and description of the unsub. I know the clown figurine could mean Gacy is his next hit but let's not forget he could have shopped elsewhere, too. And, Garcia, check the red-flagged utility leads for any sort of tie to Rochester. Any questions?"

"Just one: can we be 100% sure the fingerprint is from the unsub and not someone else?" Prentiss poses warily.

Hotch sighs. "No. And thankfully the captain didn't question that. Rochester could be a red herring except for the fact that we may have located their killer here. Keep in mind we may now be looking at 2 killers not one. Let's not get pigeonholed." The team nods in agreement. "Let's get to the hotel and get some sleep. Lots of footwork tomorrow. And the media will be itching for a break of some sort. Let's see if we can give them something.


	10. Chapter 10

At 6:00 the next morning, Hotch turns on the morning news as he finishes getting dressed. He winces as he hears the last part of the reporter's opening story.

"It is said renowned author Agent David Rossi is the one that located the print that ties the murders to a series of killing in Rochester last year. Sources close to the police department say they are close to an arrest and that a statement will be made later this morning regarding the case."

"Son of a fucking BITCH!" he yells as he tosses his tie onto the dresser. He grabs his phone. "Reid? Some asshole leaked the print and the Rochester connection to the press. We need to go to the station and get ahead of this crap."

"Damn it," Reid mutters. "I'll do what I can while you put out that fire."

"Thanks." He hangs up and calls Rossi. "Did you see the news?"

Rossi sighs. "Yes. Was about to call you when I heard you yell."

"It will make Rochester a nightmare."

"I know. Here, too. Think it was the captain?"

"I don't know. Had to be him or the analyst that made the connection to Rochester. I don't know if Garcia told her that or not. If not, it's the captain."

"Think maybe JJ should stay and Reid can go with me?" Hotch ponders this. "Aaron, she's damn good at defusing this type of situation. As a friend I'm telling you that you're probably too upset about this."

Hotch finally nods. "You're right. Call Reid. I'll call JJ." Hotch hangs up and calls JJ.

"Hey, Hotch. Let me guess: I'm staying with you."

"You saw the news?"

"Oh, yeah. Hotch, let me deal with the captain. You'll just get all alpha male and make it worse."

Hotch chuckles. "Yeah, Rossi basically said the same thing. He's yours but I've got your back if you need me."

"I know. Thanks. Reid going with Rossi?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Over breakfast I'll give him a rundown on what I researched last night."

"Thanks. And, JJ, I'm sorry about this. You seem to keep getting pulled back towards your liaison duties. I hope you don't think- -"

"Hotch, I get it. I swear. It's okay. But thanks for saying that."

"You're welcome. See you in the diner."

JJ hangs up and turns to Emily. "So much for a chance to cross Rochester off my bucket list," she says with a grin.

Emily chuckles. "I've been to Rochester. You're not missing anything. Promise." Emily takes her hands. "Things are going to get tense with the captain. If you need to concede anything to keep us on this case, sacrifice me. I can work from here."

"Emily, no. That's not the way to- -"

"It's the best concession for the team and for the victims. I can work from here just like I worked from Quantico or home towards the end of my pregnancy. It's the best solution if we have to give something up."

JJ bites her lip, trying to see a flaw in Emily's logic. She finally sighs. "Damn. Okay, you'll be the sacrificial lamb if needed. It's not right but it is the best of the worst."

Emily nods. "I know. Let's go eat."

They share a hug and kiss before going out to get after their unsub.

* * *

Just after 8 a.m. Morgan and Emily sit down in the home where young Gabriel Russell is staying after discovering his family murdered. Emily takes the lead.

"Gabriel, we can't even begin to imagine the pain you are in. But maybe you can help us somehow find the person that did this to your family," she says softly.

Gabriel won't even make eye contact with the agents. He shakes his head. "I…I don't know anything. I told the cops that. I just…found them…Mom and Dad…I just…found them."

She nods. "I know. Do you remember if your parents had mentioned needing anyone from the gas, water or electric company to check anything out? Something that might have required a home visit?"

Gabriel shrugs. "I don't know. I was…kind of in my own space, you know?" He starts to shake. "I didn't really do much with them anymore."

Emily reaches out and lays a hand on his leg. "I understand. You're a teenager, you're starting to need some independence. There's nothing wrong with that."

He slowly looks up at her, tears in his eyes. "I told them I didn't want them at my concert because they were embarrassing. We…we don't have a lot of money. Our clothes aren't the best and it made kids pick on me. I didn't want to be picked on for them, too, you know?"

Emily nods. "I really do get that."

"They hated me."

She shakes her head. "They could never hate you. They loved you, Gabriel. Nothing would change that."

Emily glances at Morgan. He understands what she's not saying out loud: the boy is too traumatized to be lead through a full cognitive interview. Morgan sits forward and hands him a card.

"If you think of anything that might help us, anything at all no matter how small, call us. Or if you just have questions you can call me. I promise we will keep looking for the guy who did this."

Gabriel takes the card, his finger tracing over the embossed letters and numbers, his eyes not really reading it. The boy just nods, drawing his legs up on the couch and wrapping his arms around them. The agents stand and move to the kitchen, where the woman taking care of Gabriel is waiting.

"Is he seeing someone? A psychologist?" Emily asks.

The woman nods. "Child services set it up but he's not very open yet. It's just too…too fresh. If he remembers anything I'll call you."

Emily hands her a card. "Thank you."

As the agents go to leave, Emily glances back once more at the boy, lost inside his mind, his nightmare one he can't wake from. She hurries out the SUV and gets inside. Morgan climbs in and gets them going to the next stop on their list.

"You know, Jen asked me recently why I specialized in kids. Now I'm asking myself why the hell I did," she says emotionlessly as she stares out the window, not seeing passing houses but a young boy forever changed.

Morgan reaches over and takes her hand. "Emily, you have always been one of the best agents at reaching kids I have ever seen. Even before Henry. You get them because at one time you were just as lost as they were. Maybe not traumatized, but lost. As long as you don't forget that you'll reach most but none of us will ever reach every victim, child or otherwise."

Emily squeezes his hand, afraid to speak until she gets her emotions back under check. Morgan understands and just keeps holding on.

* * *

JJ glares at the captain. "You were the only one that knew everything that was released. Maybe you told someone in confidence and they leaked it, maybe you wanted to make it look like you and your department are leading this investigation." She raises a hand as he goes to speak. "I've been the liaison between the team and the local police for many years. I recognize the signs that you're the one that fucked up and you know it. Don't try to apologize; don't try to deflect the shit that this is bringing down on us. Anonymous or not, your statement lit the media storm we're facing and now you're going to stop it. I'll write the press statement, you'll read it, and you'll let your detectives and us get back to solving the damn murderers. We don't need the media dogging our every step and telling the killer what we know. If he knows we're close he'll disappear and then you'll have to explain to the public that you're the one that chased him away. Do you understand me?"

The captain slowly nods. For as much as he hates the FBI and as much as he despises them running the investigation, he has come to realize he needs them. They were the ones who found the links, the print, and the junk shop. Plus this little woman sort of scares him.

"Good. I'll be back in 20 minutes. Get the media assembled."

JJ turns and walks out. When she gets to the conference room she sits down at her computer and starts to type. Hotch raises an eyebrow.

"Well?"

"Writing the statement he's going to make at 8:30. He'll keep his mouth shut from now on," she says simply.

Hotch stares at her, studying her. "What the hell did you say to him?"

JJ smiles. "I just pointed out the benefits of our help and why it's important to keep certain things from the media. He agreed."

Hotch tries to figure out if she's lying. "I don't really want to know, do I?"

"Know what?"

"If you're lying or not. Just…uh…good work, Jareau."

JJ smiles, glad she hasn't lost her touch with the locals…or her boss.

* * *

Captain Nicholas Gibson steps up to the podium with Hotch standing just behind him to the right.

"Thank you all for coming this morning. I wanted to clarify some misinformation that was reported on early broadcasts this morning. At this time, we are not closing in on the killer or killers who committed the murders you all are linking together under the misnomer "The Emulator." As we have said before, at this time we do not have solid evidence that the murders were committed by the same person or persons.

"There was, in fact, a fingerprint found in the lobby of the apartment building in which Elizabeth Monroe was killed but at this time we do not have proof that it was left by her killer.

"When you are reporting on these murders, especially on potential leads or breaks, please remember you are toying with the lives and emotions of the families of the victims. Let us conduct this case swiftly, without interference, and without hurting people already dealing with pain most of us can't even imagine. When we have information we need to get out, we will do so in an official statement. Thank you."

Without taking questions, Gibson turns and walks out of the room, Hotch right behind him. When they reach the conference room, Hotch extends his hand.

"Well done, Captain."

The captain reluctantly shakes the hand. "Thanks. Your profiler there set me right. I…I won't be a problem any more. You have my support and, probably more important to you, my silence. Catch this bastard."

Hotch nods as the man leaves. The unit chief closes the door and turns to JJ, who just smiles.

"Nope, pretty damn sure I don't want to know what you did to break him so swiftly. Just remind me next time to let you take charge from the start."

JJ grins. "Will do. Ready to go shopping?"

Hotch rolls his eyes. "Oh, goody."

They gather their things and leave to start their canvas of junk stores to see if anyone has seen their suspect.

"Hotch, why aren't we releasing this image to the public yet? I mean, I know it's grainy but won't it help?"

"Or it could drive him under. He wants to beat us and he'll leave the area to do so. He already left Rochester after they found the one print. If we look like we're closing in on him, he'll leave here, too."

JJ nods. "Thought so."

"Good question, Jareau."

"Thanks, Hotch."

* * *

Reid and Rossi finally arrive at the station in Rochester at 10. The hour and half drive had turned into 3 hours due to a bad car accident on the highway. It had given Reid plenty of time to regale Rossi with thousands, perhaps millions, or ridiculous facts. And it had given Rossi plenty of time to figure out ways to kill Reid without leaving proof behind. One more hour on the road and the author may have tried one of those ways.

"On the way back I can tell you about- -"

Rossi spins on Reid. "Have you ever heard the phrase Silence is Golden, Reid?"

"Uh, yeah."

"On the way back we'll live that saying, understood?"

Reid blushes. "Uh, yeah. Understood."

Rossi walks away muttering several new phrases in Italian Reid was going to have to get Emily to translate for him.

Inside, Rossi introduces himself to the local detective who, according to her, had been dumped with the hooker murders.

"Let's face it, brass figures they are NHI murders and they were bottom of our pile until you all found the link to the Syracuse murders."

"Uh, NHI?" Reid questions.

Rossi looks disgusted as he translates. "No humans involved. Means they figure these are the dregs of society and the world is better off without them."

The detective bristles. "Hey! I didn't say it was right, just saying how it is! I don't have families in here crying or calling every day to get answers. There aren't candlelight vigils keeping things active."

"So you don't bother to investigate? Great," Rossi chastises.

Reid is suddenly really wishing JJ was here. Or Emily or Morgan or anyone but him. He casually steps between the two battling cops.

"Now, um, let's all just take a step back. Rossi, you know sometimes in cases such as these leads are few and far between. And, Detective, please understand we're not here to criticize your job or question your investigation. We have a link that may not even be to our murders but is definitely a link to yours. Let's just work together to see if we can stop one, maybe two, killers."

Reid breathes a sigh of relief as the other two seem to relax. A little. The detective shows them to an interrogation room with three boxes sitting on the table.

"This is what we have. Knock yourselves out," she says as she leaves.

Reid and Rossi start to dig through the relatively thin files. After a few minutes, Rossi speaks, though he never looks up.

"Good job, kid."

Reid manages a grin. "Thanks. Just glad it worked."

Rossi nods. By 10:30 they know the three murders are definitely linked but are they the Emulator?

"He takes off after he leaves a partial print behind," Rossi says. "Why not just keep killing in a different city? Why suddenly decide to start these celebrations of past killers?"

"Maybe he was angry he left a clue after just 3 kills. The men he's copying killed so many before getting caught. Could be he is learning as he goes. He studied those that got away with it for so long, trying to see where their final mistake was. Maybe he just decided he liked them and wanted to pay his respects to them."

"It always comes back to him celebrating them. What if it's the opposite?" Rossi surmises. "What if it's his way of saying, 'Ha ha, I got away with it you didn't!'. A taunt to his predecessors versus a homage to them?"

Reid ponders this a second. "Then why make things so exact? Why go to the trouble of finding things that relate to the era of the killer?"

Rossi shakes his head. "I don't know. Those things lean back towards admiration."

The two agents sit in silence for a few more minutes. Finally Rossi stands. "Let's go check out the dump sites then go back to Syracuse. Something tells me these belong to our killer. I want to take another run at the apartment complex tapes. I feel like there was more in that guys movements that should give us a bit of insight into him. I want to see it on something bigger than my tablet."

Reid nods. They say goodbye to the detective, promising to call her if their unsub is her unsub. After getting a look at the dump sites and grabbing a bite to eat they are on their way back to Syracuse by 2:30.

And, as promised, Reid is silent.

* * *

Morgan and Emily are meeting with their third HR director of the day. Peter Scott nervously drums his fingers.

"You understand, I have to be careful what I say to you so I don't open myself or the company up to a lawsuit?"

Emily nods. "Yes, sir. But understand we are trying to catch a killer that has struck 4 times now and you are one of three companies shared by the victims. It may be nothing but we have to look everywhere."

He nods. "Yes. Of course. Now, what can I tell you?"

"Have you had any employees dismissed recently for criminal behavior?" Morgan asks.

The man grins. "I can't answer that, Agent."

Morgan sighs. "Sir, we're after a murderer."

"And I have to respect the privacy of past and present employees. I'm sorry you'll need a warrant for that."

"Okay, then are there any people in the past year that you've not hired due to criminal records?" Emily asks, though thanks to Garcia she already knows the answer is 6 people.

The man considers that a moment before answering. "We have…several that did not pass standard background checks." He lifts a folder up and opens it. "Two were looking to be techs but they had driving records that made that impossible. One wanted to be a customer service specialist on the phone but they had a stalking charge that included phone harassment. The other 3 were, in all honestly, I think just ex-cons proving to their parole officer that they were trying to find work."

Emily nods. "I see. What about people who didn't raise a red flag with their backgrounds." She leans towards him. "What about people that just didn't…click for you or the department looking to hire someone. That 'click' could be the thing that is giving you the dark rings under your eyes. Something about the unsub being talked about in the news is ringing in your head, Mr. Scott. What is it and who?"

Scott stares at the agent a moment, then leans onto his desk. "This is…confidential, right? Just between us?"

Emily slowly shakes her head. "I can't promise that. If you give us pertinent information it could come out at a trial. But if you don't give it, will you sleep ever again if someone else dies and your information could have prevented that?"

Emily knows it's a hard hit to throw out but felt it was worth the risk to take it. They need a break and this man may have it.

Scott stares at her, his eyes briefly flicking to Morgan, then back to Emily. He slowly opens his top drawer and hands her another folder.

"He just…made me feel…weird. I've been in HR for nearly 20 years with various companies and no one ever made me feel so uncomfortable. He never blinked. He kept confirming that being a tech would get him into people's houses. It was just too strange. I never even submitted him for background checks or to the department with the opening."

"Why didn't you just throw his information away?" Morgan asks.

"If he called back I could honestly say his information was on file. I guess it just made me feel safer to know I wasn't completely lying to him. I know, it makes no sense," he says, shaking his head.

"Actually it makes perfect sense," Emily says kindly. "May we keep this?"

He nods. "Of course. Just…never mind…you can't promise me, I know. If they need me to testify I will."

Emily smiles as she and Morgan stand. "Thank you, Mr. Scott."

Before they get to the SUV Emily is on the phone. "Garcia, I need everything you can get me on Taylor Gurley, formerly of Rochester, NY."

She gives the analyst his Social Security Number and other information off the application. As she gets in the SUV she looks at Morgan.

"Cross your fingers."

"Already crossed, Princess. Already crossed."

* * *

At 4:45 Garcia walks into the conference room. Those gathered can tell she doesn't have good news.

"Phone number Gurley gave was a disposable. The address is non-existent. And according to his SSN he earned a Bronze Star during the Korean War but passed away 3 years ago."

"Son of a bitch," Emily mutters as she runs her hands over her face.

"Could we get prints off his application?" Reid asks.

"Filled out online and printed out. No clue where he did it as they don't keep the tracking information once they download it," Morgan tells him.

"And the name search?" Emily asks.

"Oh, Taylor Gurley _was _the name attached to that Social. It just isn't our guy," Garcia says.

"And their security tapes from the day he came in are already wiped," Emily says. She gets up and kicks a chair. "Son of a bitch," she repeats.

"Let's see if we can get Scott with a sketch artist and take him a copy of the stills from the junk shop. If he recognizes Gurley as the unsub at least it's a lead. We can then go back to the other companies and show the picture," Rossi suggests.

Emily just nods. Morgan runs a hand over his head. "Maybe Hotch and JJ had better luck at the junk shops.

* * *

At 5:30 Hotch and JJ return to the station. They can see the deflated looks on their teammates faces as they are once again pouring over financials and other information.

"Bad day?" JJ asks the room.

"Roller coaster that jumped a track," Emily admits.

"Ugh," JJ commiserates. "Hotch and I showed the pictures around. Our unsub has done a good bit of shopping. Hotch is taking copies of security disks and tapes to Garcia. He has bought: an old police wallet, a nurse statuette, a taxidermy fish, and a set of crutches."

Reid frowns. "The nurse statuette…Richard Speck?"

Morgan nods. "Could be. The fish could represent the victim of the Green River Killer who was found with a bag on her head and a fish on her neck and breast."

"The crutches could be Bundy. He may try to fake a leg injury to get a woman in his grasp," Rossi adds.

"But a wallet? Who the hell would the wallet represent?" Emily asks, staring at the wall as if it could answer her question.

Reid shrugs. "Maybe he just needed it as part of a disguise. Could be faking his way into houses as cop or something?"

Morgan nods. "Good point. You know we haven't even thought of him using a fake ID to get into houses."

"Shit," Rossi says as he flops back in his chair.

JJ drops down into the chair her wife had vacated. "So we can guess he wants to emulate Speck, Bundy, Gacy, Ridgway, and perhaps someone who impersonated a cop. Or he could be- -"

Emily spins around. "Hillside Stranglers! Angelo Buono was caught with a cop-style wallet which even had the impression of the fake badge he'd used to lure victims into prostitution."

Rossi nods. "Glad you could answer your own question. Just wish any of this got us closer to our unsub."

Emily raises an eyebrow. "Should I say 'son of a bitch' again?"

Rossi grins. "Go for it."

"Son of a bitch!" she blurts as everyone shares a much needed laugh.

When Hotch comes in a few minutes later he sees Reid has added the new items and the potential killer or killers they represented on one of the boards. But he sees the look in everyone's eyes.

"I take it we're stuck?"

"We had a good lead until it turned out everything we knew was a lie," Emily admits and tells about the electric company applicant.

Hotch nods. "It could be him but let's not get too focused on him in case he's just another bad guy for some other reason." The team nods. "How do we feel about releasing the photo to the public?"

Everyone glances at each other. Finally Rossi shakes his head. "No way. He ran when he was linked in Rochester. He'll run now. Give us at least the weekend, Hotch. Agreed?"

Everyone nods. Hotch weighs the idea carefully before nodding. "Agreed. But if we don't have anything by Monday we need to put his face out there. For now let's close shop and head for dinner. I order all of you to forget this for the night."

"Figure out how to get us to follow that order and I'll buy you a car," Emily jokes.

Hotch grins as everyone gathers their things together. Garcia walks in a few minutes later.

"I'll have the pictures for you in 20 minutes, Hotch."

"So soon?" he says, surprised.

She grins. "Have you forgotten how good I am?"

He chuckles. "No, I'm just tired and not thinking clearly. My apologies, Garcia." He looks at the others. "Get out of here. Garcia and I will meet you all at dinner."

The team nods and heads out, praying Garcia gets a better picture of their unsub that she can run against DMV and other photo databases so they can put a real name on the face of their unsub.


	11. Chapter 11

Saturday the team spends the day canvassing more junk stores in the greater Syracuse area. Unfortunately, no one recognizes the unsub. There is a feeling of desperation peppering everything they do making everyone jittery and short with each other. As they return to the station at 4 p.m. Morgan bumps JJ, causing her coffee to splash over the side of the cup.

"Damn it, Morgan! Watch it!"

"What's the matter? Won't get your 20th cup of the day?" he snarks back at her.

"It's not my 20th, you jerk," she mutters. "Just don't need coffee burns on my hands or stains on my blouse. Not all of us wear crappy Henley's everyday," she says with a glare at him.

He gets in her face. "Oh, so you have a problem with the way I dress?"

Rossi steps between them. "Easy, you two. No need for this to escalate to a point you'll both regret," he says calmly.

Emily walks back into the room to find Rossi standing between her wife and best friend…who look like they are about to punch each other.

"Uh, guys? What's going on?" she asks warily.

"A little misunderstanding, right guys," Rossi answers.

"Shit, guys, don't make me choose between you. Morgan, you know I want to get laid again. And, Jen, I need my buddy when you are pissing me off," Emily says.

JJ takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "I was…being a jerk."

Morgan manages a grin. "Me, too."

"Sorry, Derek." She pulls on his collar. "I actually like your Henley's," she tells him.

"And I can't even picture you without coffee. Sorry, Jayje."

Rossi blows out a relieved breath. "Thank goodness. I did not feel like kicking your asses today."

JJ and Morgan laugh as the older agent goes to finish what he had been working on. A few minutes later the next arguing duo walks in.

"Because the computer can't read your mind, Reid! And even if it could how could it weed through all the pointless bullshit in there to get what you really want to know?" Garcia spouts.

"How long have you been doing this, Garcia? How can you not have a program to find us this information?" Reid blurts back.

"I might have the program if you had EVER asked for it before! But I can't just…just…magically write a program on the spot. Well, I mean I can, but I need a human being who can actually speak human being!"

Reid tosses his folder on the table. "I am so sick and TIRED of everyone not getting me! How is it Emily gets me but the rest of you, who have known me longer, still think I'm some freaky kid who can't express himself? Do you not even try or WHAT?"

Morgan steps in this time. "Hey, Reid, calm down. And, Baby Girl, that was a low blow and you know it."

Emily walks over and lays a hand on Reid's arm. "Reid, I get you because I've been you. I just…had people around me who helped me figure out how to explain myself when I was a kid. You didn't have someone to do that for you."

"And you, Garcia, always pull digital bunnies out of your CPUs so we just assume you will have what we need when we need it," Morgan tells her. "We take advantage of the Goddess of Quantico so much it throws all of us, even the two nerds, when you don't have it immediately."

Garcia smiles. "Yeah, I guess it does throw you when I'm not a step or two ahead of you." She looks at Reid. "Sorry, Reid. You're still my favorite male nerd."

Reid gives a lopsided grin. "Thanks. Sorry I was a jerk. We couldn't do what we do without you and the scary electronic things you manipulate."

A few minutes later Hotch walks into the room. His face is scrunched up, the sure sign of a pounding headache.

"Any fucking news?" he asks.

The team exchanges worried looks, all wishing someone would have something good to say. Emily finally steps towards him.

"No luck with junk shops or the small businesses that send home techs in the towns Morgan and I visited," she admits.

Rossi nods. "Same thing where JJ and I went. This guy's comfort zone for work and hunting is Syracuse proper."

"Shit." Hotch runs a hand over his face. He takes a second to think then nods. "Okay. Finish typing up your reports then get the hell out of here. I have another press statement to make at 5."

JJ steps to him. "Let me help you, Hotch. I know what you're going to need to say to calm them down."

He shakes his head. "No. It's not fair to keep leaning on you for the media details, JJ. You're a profiler now, not a liaison. It falls to me- -"

"To delegate appropriately," she finishes for him. "Let me write it for you, Hotch. You need a break."

Hotch looks from her to the others who nod. Reluctantly he agrees. "Okay. You write it and get out of here. I'll stay the face they see."

JJ nods. "Deal."

Rossi pats Hotch on the shoulder. "Go find a couch to relax on for 30 minutes. You need to look pretty for the cameras."

The team chuckles as Hotch glares at his mentor. "Smart ass," he mutters as he walks out of the room.

Most of the team is ready to leave by 4:45. JJ is putting the finishing touches on the press statement so Emily offers to wait with her.

"No, go on back, Em. I'll just ride back with Hotch when he's done."

Emily frowns. "Are you sure, baby?"

JJ nods. "I'm sure. We'll call the kids when I get to the hotel."

Emily nods. "Okay. I love you."

"Love you, too."

They share a kiss as Emily leaves with the others. JJ goes to get Hotch so he can run through the announcement and make any changes he wants before he appears before the media hordes.

* * *

At 5:30 Emily steps into the shower. She had just watched Hotch's press conference stressing to the people of Syracuse to utilize extreme vigilance as they go about their daily lives. Sadly, there was not much more that could be said. The captain had stood behind him the entire time, derision coloring his face.

She is just about to step out when someone steps in. Emily smiles at her wife.

"Hi."

JJ captures her wife's lips in a kiss. "Hi," she answers when they come up for air. "We have to meet the team for dinner in 30 minutes."

Emily grins. "Bet we can make it."

"Me, too." She squeezes her wife's breasts in her hands, loving the look on Emily's face as she does. "But if we're late so fucking what."

Emily just nods as JJ replaces a hand with her mouth. Emily arches into the movement, her hands going to her wife's hips and pulling her close. Her hands knead the firm ass of her wife as their centers thrust towards each other. Finally, Emily needs more. She brings one hand up to tangle in her wife's hair and force her up into a deep kiss as her other hand moves between JJ's legs.

JJ moans, her tongue dancing with her wife's as she also brings a hand to Emily's throbbing center. They both moan as fingers delve deep into silken depths. They rock into each other, needing to release the stress and frustrations of their day. Emily comes first.

"YES! JEN! Oh, yesss!"

JJ follows her over a few seconds later, her head falling to the taller woman's shoulder.

"Oh, Em, fuck yes," she groans.

They stand, holding each other as the water streams over them. JJ finally looks up at her wife.

"He's going to kill again before we catch him, isn't he?"

Emily sadly nods. "Most likely unless we get lucky." She kisses her wife once more. "Finish your shower, baby. I'll go ahead and get dressed. We can call home on the way to the restaurant."

JJ nods as Emily kisses her once more before stepping out.

A little while later, the last bit of tension leaves JJ as she listens to Henry recount his day for his Mommies and tells them what Rocky and Ska did, also. It is a perfect balm for a wounded soul.

* * *

At 2:30 in the morning JJ rolls over and her hand hits…nothing. Her eyes blink open as she confirms Emily is not in the bed. She rolls over assuming her wife is in the bathroom but instead sees her standing between the window and the curtain, obviously staring out into the night. JJ gets up and moves towards her.

"Em? You okay?" JJ asks.

Emily steps out of her vantage point and nods. "Yeah. Had a frustrating dream and just needed to clear my head a bit."

JJ wraps her arms around her wife's waist. "Frustrating? Is that code for you had a nightmare?"

Emily grins and kisses the tip of her wife's nose. "Nope. Well, maybe. I dreamt he was just ahead of us. We were following him from city to city. Rossi was excited because of all the potential books he could write. Reid and Garcia were working on a computer helmet Reid could wear to help us understand him. Morgan and you were trying to guess what chess pieces the unsub was going to leave at the next scene. You two didn't believe me when I told you it wasn't about chess. I never saw Hotch but I know he was getting pissed because we had nothing and he had to keep going on TV. It was just…frustrating. We weren't getting anywhere and we were losing focus."

JJ rubs her wife's back. "Do you think we are? Losing focus, that is?"

Emily just shrugs. "I don't know. Maybe. Or maybe I just think we need to refocus on something. Maybe just refocusing on Syracuse tomorrow will help. Today…or rather yesterday," she says with a glance at the clock, "was a waste of time that didn't yield a single useful bit of information."

"Yeah, I know. Baby, come back to bed. Getting tired isn't going to help. And staring out the window, knowing he's out there, will just frustrate you more."

Emily nods. "I know, sweetheart. I know. Just needed to clear my head a bit."

JJ starts to walk back to the bed, pulling her wife with her. "Come on. Let me hold you until you fall asleep again."

Emily smiles. "That sounds perfect, Jen."

They crawl into bed. Emily snuggles up to her wife, her head resting on JJ's shoulder. "I love you, Jen. I remember when a dream like that would mean a whole night sans sleep. Now you help me settle and get the rest I need."

JJ kisses her temple. "You do the same for me, honey. I love you, too. Goodnight, Emily."

Emily sighs contentedly. "Goodnight, Jen."

* * *

Unfortunately for the team, Sunday is another day of frustration, short tempers…and no lead on the unsub. The man was still nothing more than a blurry face on a couple of security cameras.

And he is out hunting.


	12. Chapter 12

At 3:30 Monday morning, Evan Krautman pulls his SUV up to the curb in a nice, middle-class neighborhood in Syracuse. Just a couple years old and in great condition it doesn't stand out as too new or too old. It just blends right in. He is glad to see the place he had picked is still ready for him. He knows the newspaperman won't be around until closer to 4:15. The first neighbors won't be leaving for work until after 6.

He is careful, he scouts, he doesn't rush, he doesn't fail. Not anymore. Not like his heroes. He waits a few minutes and makes sure no one is stirring unexpectedly before easing out of his door and closing it as silently as possible, having already disabled the interior light so it would not come on.

He opens the back end and pulls out the dead woman. She had been an easy kill and almost not even worth his time. But the Hillside Stranglers were legends. He had to show his respect to them.

He carries the small woman to the other side of the road and lays her in the gutter. He had memorized the crime scene photo and displays her just right. He smiles and wipes a leaf off the Amenta he had painted on the curb the night before. He then pulls the old wallet out of his pocket and tosses it in the grass beside the body.

"Have fun with this one, Feds," he whispers and casually walks back to his SUV.

Once inside he waits a moment, once again making sure the neighborhood is still. Satisfied that no one is stirring, he starts the engine and drives away, lighting a cigarette as he goes.

Sometimes it's just too easy. He hadn't even had to rape her himself. Her job as a prostitute had seen to it that she would have signs of rape on her thighs. Rough Johns can be helpful to a murderer. He hadn't checked for signs of sodomy but figures that was probably a given, too.

Krautman smiles as he inhales happily on his cigarette. "So much fun. And they are fucking clueless as to who I am. Just a few more tributes and I go back to doing my own thing. Just had to pay a little respect to the gods of death before I start my next set."


	13. Chapter 13

Emily moans as her phone rings at 5:57. Her alarm was set for 6.

"What Morgan?" she mutters.

"We've got another one."

"Shit," she says as she tosses the covers back.

"Hotch wants you and I at the scene."

"Give me 10 minutes," she says as she hangs up.

"Em?"

Emily takes a second to kiss JJ. "Another one. Morgan and I are heading to the scene."

"Shit," JJ says as she gets up.

As Emily goes into the bathroom, JJ hits start on the coffee pot. It wasn't much, but she could at least have a cup ready for her wife to take with her. JJ jumps as the forgotten alarm starts to blare.

"Oh, shut up," she grumbles as she slaps it off.

* * *

Thirty minutes later Morgan and Emily pull up in a neighborhood awash with red and blue lights. They see the media has already been cordoned off way down the block.

"Didn't take them long," Emily notes with disgust.

"No shit," Morgan agrees.

They walk up to Squires and Dillon. Squires offers a hand.

"Sorry to wake you with this shit," he says.

Morgan shrugs. "Not your fault. What's the connect?"

Squires points towards the body. "Amenta painted on the curb."

Emily sighs. "Shit. Morgan, that's going to get out since he painted it on there."

"We'll just have to make it look like it has nothing to do with this."

Emily nods. "Do we know the victim?"

"Yeah. 23 year old prostitute. Can't tell if the killer raped her or if the bruises are a result of her, uh, occupation. Shows ligature strangulation marks as well as bondage marks on her wrists and ankles."

"Just like the Hillside Stranglers' early victim. Only this one isn't a 16 year old kid. That's small consolation," Emily notes. "Any signs of something left behind?"

Dillon steps forward with an evidence bag. "Yeah. Old cops wallet."

Emily's shoulders slump. "Sometimes I fucking hate when I'm right."

Morgan nods. "We all end up there at some point. Let's get a closer look."

Emily and Morgan carefully walk up to the body, studying the ground as they go. Emily squats down beside the woman who looks much older than her 23 years.

"You lived a rough life but you didn't deserve this," she whispers. Emily looks up at Dillon. "Was there anything found on her eyelids?"

Dillon looks confused. "Uh, no. Why?"

"Victim of the Hillside Stranglers that was displayed like this had fluff on her eyes that eventually tied her to the duo that killed her. Our guy either ignored that or is showing he is more careful than the originals."

"Or it could have blown off," Morgan points out.

Emily nods to concede that point. Once they have seen everything at the scene they think they need, the agents walk back towards the SUV.

"We've got victimology out the ass," Morgan notes. "We've got speculation about who he might try to copy next. How the hell don't we know more about _him_?"

"He's too hidden behind the others," Emily states. They stand there thinking a moment. Emily glances at Morgan. "The Hillside Stranglers didn't just attack prostitutes. They went after middle-class victims, too. This guy has proven he can kill low risk victims as easy as high risk victims. Why would he suddenly go for a high risk victim this time? Why not keep showing how good he is to us and them? Hell, he could have taken a waitress and it would have been a bigger challenge to him," she points out.

Morgan slowly shrugs. "I don't know. We're back to not knowing who this guy really is." The two lean against their SUV, watching as the m.e. moves in to prepare the body for transport. "Come on, Prentiss, let's get some breakfast and meet up with the team to- -"

Emily looks over at him questioningly as his voice breaks off. "Morgan?"

Morgan points to a house across the street. "That look like a security camera to you?"

Emily looks where he's pointing and straightens up. To most it would look like a decorative piece just under the eaves of the house. To agents and cops, they see camera. The agents move to Squires and Dillon.

"Hey, did you two see that?" Morgan asks pointing.

"Holy shit," Dillon whispers excitedly. "Please, God, please let it be what we think it is and let it be working."

The four LEO's move to the house. They figure with everything going on the family is already awake. The doorbell is answered almost immediately. A man in sweats and tee shirt shrugs.

"I already told the others we didn't see or hear anything," he says, almost guiltily.

"This most likely happened overnight," Morgan tells him. "It's not surprising you didn't see anything. But, sir, is that a working security camera?" he asks, pointing to the eaves.

The man nods. "Yes but it points at our driveway. We had some kids egging our Hummer."

"Does it see any portion of the street?" Emily presses.

"A little bit. Why?"

Morgan turns to Dillon. "Any idea when she died?"

"Coroner guessed about midnight."

Morgan turns back to the man. "We need to see everything from midnight on. That body was driven here by someone."

The man's eyes widen. "Oh! Uh, come in. I'll get it downloaded for you. It's a digital system."

Morgan smiles. "Perfect."

* * *

Morgan and Emily forget about breakfast. They hurry back to the station with Dillon, leaving Squires to finish clearing the scene. They go right to Garcia's office.

"Baby Girl, we need this reviewed ASAP," Morgan states.

She takes the CD. "Sure, what is it?"

"Quite possibly the unsub's vehicle," Emily tells her.

Garcia starts to type faster, setting it to play slightly faster than normal. She puts the images she is viewing up on two monitors so the three law enforcement officers won't hang over her shoulder. They have just passed 1 a.m. when Trina steps into the room.

"Uh, Detective Dillon? I finished the background on the victim," she hands him some papers. "She has a kid, sir. Uh, had a kid I guess. Stays with a neighbor when she's working."

Dillon sighs as he reads the report. "Fuck. I hate when kids are left behind. Only 2 years old, no father on the birth certificate and now his mother is gone." He looks at Trina. "Thanks, Tree. Good work as always."

"Thanks, Dill. Just…hate this one."

"Me, too, kid. Me, too."

Emily can't help but think Dillon's relationship to Trina is like Rossi's to Garcia. It only slightly lessens the sting of hearing about an orphaned little boy. Hopefully the victim will have family that can take the child in.

At the 3:47 mark an SUV suddenly eases into the shot. Garcia stops the playback and starts it again at regular speed. They see the SUV coming from an angle that says it had been parked. A flash lights up the inside.

"He lit a cigarette," Emily says.

Morgan nods. "Yep. Baby Girl?"

"I'll see if I can blow that up. Should have a damn good shot of his license plate, too."

She freezes the current image of the backend of the vehicle. "Chevy Blazer, either dark blue or black," she says, "New York plate LDV-8890." They hear typing but see nothing moving, telling them she is feeding the vehicle info into the DMV database. The image on screen backs up to the point where the light flares. She enlarges the driver's side window. In the flare of light a face is obvious but too distorted to be useful.

"Damn," Emily says

"But we have a plate," Dillon points out.

"And I have seen some wicked cool tech shit I want," Trina says enviously.

Garcia just grins. Then she straightens up. "GOT IT! SUV is owned by Phyllis Krautman of Rochester."

"Any kids?" Emily asks as Garcia types away.

"Two kids. Daughter Serena 28 and son Evan 32."

"His age puts him right in the age-range of our profile," Morgan notes.

"Where's the son?" Emily asks.

"He is, well, according to this in Rochester but he hasn't had a steady job in 2 years. Looks like lots of odd jobs: locksmith, fast food, print shop, fast food again, sales clerk, convenience store. Oh, and, his DMV pic matches our junk store guy," she finishes proudly.

"That's him." Emily looks at Morgan. "Locksmith and print shop."

Morgan nods, reading her mind. "Learns how to get in without leaving a trace, makes badges that look legit."

"We got him," Dillon says excitedly.

"Garcia, where is he now?"

Garcia had kept typing, finally she shakes her hands in frustration. "I DON'T KNOW! No activity on his credit cards, no cell phone, nothing."

"What about his mom or sister? Anything connecting them to Syracuse?"

Garcia types some more. "Shit! No! Damn it! How the hell is he here and yet NOT HERE?!"

Morgan pats her shoulder. "We know who he is and what he looks like. We'll find where he is soon, Garcia. Count on it."

Garcia nods, still typing, hoping to find what she may have missed.

Morgan, Emily and Dillon run over to the conference room.

"We got him! Son of a bitch we've got him!" Dillon says triumphantly.

Everyone in the room turns to them as Morgan runs down what they have found this morning. At the end he shrugs.

"But we don't know where he is. If we release his picture he's bound to bolt or go on a spree. We have to move carefully, Hotch," Morgan finishes.

Hotch nods. "Rossi, Reid, get to the mother and sister in Rochester. Lights and sirens. No phone calls ahead of time we don't want them to tip Evan off."

The two agents nod and leap up, praying they can get an answer to where the killer may be hiding.

"Morgan, Emily, pay Mr. Scott a visit at home. Get him to confirm that the man he was concerned about is Evan Krautman. Then take the picture to the two stores he bought products. Get the clerks to ID him since those items are the only things tying him to the murder scenes. JJ, get them the address of the one we found."

Morgan and Emily hurry out, their lack of breakfast forgotten.

Hotch looks at JJ. "We need to draft a press release stating that this morning's killing is not linked to the others."

"WHAT?" Dillon and JJ both respond.

"We need to find him. Or we need him to find us. We'll give the others time to locate him. If that doesn't work we'll release the statement and try to draw him to us."

JJ nods. "Got it. I'll get it drafted up now."

"Good." Hotch looks at Dillon. "Get with Squires and let him know everything. I'm going to go fill in your captain."

Dillon gives him a grin. "You sure that's safe?"

Hotch glances at JJ and then back. "I think so. My pit bull took care of him."

JJ just grins…and doesn't deny the statement. Dillon laughs.

"Something tells me to just believe that. I'll give Phil a call."

Hotch follows him out of the room. If all goes well, this case ends today.

* * *

**A/N: Hey, if Son of Sam can be found due to a traffic ticket why not find this guy with a home security system. :o)**


	14. Chapter 14

Morgan and Emily stare at a stunned Peter Scott. "What are you two doing here?" he asks, obviously on his way out to work.

Morgan holds up the picture of Evan Krautman. "Is this the man that made you uncomfortable?"

Scott stares at the picture and can't stop the involuntary shiver. "That's him. Am I in danger?"

"No, sir," Emily assures him. "So far he doesn't know you are involved in our investigation. Tell me, when he came in, was he given anything with your letterhead or logos on it?"

"Uh, business cards. Maybe a letter explaining the hiring practices. Why?"

"He may have used those to fashion a badge to allow himself into homes. The prosecutor will be in touch if that theory pans out," Morgan explains. "For now, just go about your regular business as usual. Thank you very much for your help."

Scott watches as the agents leave. He turns to his wife. "Honey, get the kids. We're going to visit your parents this week."

"But you hate my parents. And what about school?" she sputters in confusion.

"Just pack the bags," he orders as he locks the deadbolt on the door.

* * *

Travis Smythe smiles as Emily and Morgan walk into his store. "Please tell me you're just here to shop?"

Emily grins and shrugs. "Wish we could." She holds up the picture. "Was this the man that bought the bat and other items from you?"

Smythe puts on the glasses that hang around his neck and studies the picture. "Yep, that's him. Kind of a nice looking fellow."

"Scarily a lot of them are," Emily admits. "If you see him, sell him whatever he wants but call us as soon as you can."

"Will do better than that. That guy walks in here I'll hit my panic button and let the police do their thing. Silent alarm. He won't even know they're coming."

Emily smiles. "Good plan. When we catch him the prosecutor will be in touch with you regarding his trial."

Smythe nods. "I'll be ready to do my civic duty and help fry his ass."

Morgan smiles. "A man after my own heart. Thank you, Mr. Smythe."

The two agents walk out. "That's 2 for 3," Emily says. "How about we go for the hat trick."

Morgan nods. "I love it when you talk soccer, Princess," he answers with a grin.

* * *

When they leave their third stop, Morgan pulls out his phone and calls Hotch.

"Three for three, Hotch. And all are ready to testify if needed."

"Perfect. So far we have no idea where he is. If Reid and Rossi don't get a lead we'll have to hope the APB on his car pans out."

"We're on our way back in. Going to stop for an early lunch since we missed breakfast this morning."

"Sounds good. If we need you we'll call."

"Deal." Morgan hangs up and looks at Emily. "What sounds good?"

"Anything and a cup of coffee."

He chuckles. "You're so easy to please. JJ's a lucky woman."

Emily grins. "In many ways, Morgan. In many, many ways."

Morgan laughs and just keeps driving.

* * *

Rossi and Reid pull up in front of the home of Phyllis Krautman in record time. They approach the door and find it opening as they get to it. Phyllis was obviously on her way out. Rossi lifts his badge.

"Phyllis Krautman?"

She jumps in shock. "Um, yes?"

"SSA David Rossi, this is SSA Dr. Spencer Reid with the FBI. We need to speak to you about your son."

Phyllis sighs, her shoulders slumping. "What's he gone and done now?"

Rossi gestures towards her house. "Maybe we should step inside."

Phyllis nods and leads them in. "I was just on my way to my daughter's house. We're going shopping for wedding dresses today. We took the day off special."

Reid bites his lip a moment. "Perhaps you should call her and have her join us. We need to find Evan and any information you two have will be crucial."

"I'll call her but she has less to do with him than I do. He's not…a nice person. Never was."

She leads them into a living room area and gestures for them to sit. She pulls her cell phone out and hits speed dial 1. "Serena? Can you come to my house. Evan's gone and done something dumb enough to get the FBI involved." She listens a second. "Most likely unpaid taxes or parking tickets or something. Or he smarted off to the wrong person about the President. Whatever it is just get over here."

As she had talked, Rossi had looked over the room. An outsider would think Serena is an only child. The few pictures including a young man obviously feature the soon to be son-in-law. This woman was not going to tip off her son or protect him.

Rossi sits forward. "You say you don't have much to do with your son. Can I ask why?"

Phyllis stares at her hands. "My husband died when Serena was just 2. I did my best to raise my children alone. It wasn't easy but I did my best. Evan never had a man in his life and maybe that's my fault. But…but he was always a bit of a mean kid. Not a bully but mean. He wouldn't just pick on kids he'd hurt them. I thought he needed discipline so, on the advice of his school counselor I sent him to a…a special school."

"Boarding school?" Reid asks.

"Yes. I was able to get financial help, you see, and he would have male authority figures in his life. I thought it was a good thing. But he came back even worse. He was bitter, angry. A few times I thought he'd go to jail or juvenile detention but the charges would be dropped. I think he had a way of convincing people to feel sorry for him. It was wrong, Agent Rossi. They should have feared him."

Reid folds his hands over his knees. "Did…do you know if he ever…hurt animals as a child?"

"Oh, um, well, I don't know." She thinks a second once and then stiffens. "Oh, God. We had a kitten once. Serena brought it home. Evan said it ran away when he left the door open. Maybe he…but he wouldn't." She squeezes her hands together. "Um, why exactly are you here?"

Rossi sighs. "I think you know. I think you know and don't want to say it out loud."

Phyllis pulls a handkerchief out of her pocket. "He hurt someone, didn't he? Badly?"

Reid nods. "We think so. Do you know if he knows anyone in Syracuse?"

Phyllis thinks a moment then shakes her head. "Not that I know- -"

The front door is thrown open. "MOM?"

Phyllis and the agents stand. "Serena!"

The girl runs in, her fiancé behind her. "What's going on?" She looks at the agents. "What did he do?"

"We're not sure yet," Rossi says somewhat honestly. "Please, sit down."

Serena sits beside her mother. "The FBI doesn't just come looking for someone without good reason. What's going on?"

"Do you know if Evan knows anyone in Syracuse?" Reid asks her.

Serena slowly nods. "Yeah. Last time he was here," she looks at her mother, "when he convinced you to loan him your old Chevy," she looks back at the agents, "he mentioned he was seeing some girl there."

"Do you know her name or where she lives?"

Serena shakes her head. "No to both of those questions." She swallows and grips her mother's hands tighter. "Is…is he the one killing all those people?"

Phyllis stiffens in horror. "SERENA! How can you ask that?"

"Mom, he's horrible. He's downright evil at times. You saw what he did to that guy that was hassling him last year."

"He wasn't charged with that!" Phyllis insists.

"Because he told the guy he'd get it worse if the police were called! Geez, Mom, I know you've got guilt over that hellhole you sent him to as a kid but that doesn't change the fact that he's messed up in the head." She looks at the agents. "He's violent. He killed a kitten I had once."

"Serena, you don't know that!"

"I do, Mom! He told me. And then he told me he'd kill me, too, if I told you. He's violent, Mom. He should have been jailed long ago but people kept letting him off."

It is obvious to both agents that the mother knows her son is not an angel but she can't believe he's a demon. Rossi stares at them both before asking the daughter the next question.

"Serena, do you know if he's killed anyone before?"

Phyllis stares at her daughter as Serena's eyes fill with tears. "I…I can't prove it…but I think so. He borrowed my car once last year. There's this stain in the trunk. He said it was oil." She swallows. "It's not oil."

"We're going to need to see your car," Rossi says.

* * *

Two hours later Rossi calls Hotch. "Hotch, we've confirmed there is blood in the trunk of Serena Krautman's car. It's undergoing tests right now to see if it matches the three victims from this area last year."

"But they don't know where he is?"

"Just that he's with some girl in Syracuse. They've pretty much cut ties with him. The mother gave him her SUV more from guilt over his childhood than loyalty to a child."

"I see. Get back here. Time to force his hand."

"I'm not sure that's going to work with this guy."

"What do you mean?"

"Hotch, if we go on the news somehow daring him to contact us he's just going to laugh. It will be proof we don't know as much as him. He'll move on or just bide his time until we leave before striking again. We need to put out an APB and get everyone looking for him. Someone knows him and his girlfriend. Someone will call."

Hotch considers this a few minutes then nods. "You're right. Expect phones to be lit up by the time you get here. We'll be running fast until we take him down."

"Got it."

* * *

Hotch hangs up and looks at Emily.

"Go get Captain Gibson. Time to let the world know who the unsub is and work on taking him down."

Emily nods and hurries to the captain's office. Hotch looks at JJ.

"We need to change the press release. We're going to tell everyone who he is and pray the right people see the news and call us."

Morgan frowns. "Why the change?"

Hotch explains what Rossi deduced after speaking with Krautman's family. Morgan and JJ nod. "Right. Good call. We're about to light up the phones here like a Christmas tree," Morgan says with a grin.

Hotch nods. "Let's hope so."

* * *

At the captain's office Emily taps on the door. "Uh, Captain Gibson, we're ready to let the public in on who the killer is and hope they help us bring him down."

Gibson stares at the woman. Even her make-up can't hide the bruises that are still fading on her face, nor can they hide the freshly healed cuts. He gestures for her to come in.

"Shut the door, Agent Prentiss."

Emily does as he asks. "Sir?"

"I want your side of the story," he says.

She knows what he's talking about. "It was right after I got pregnant. We were on a case in Reno and the sheriff was…well, he was a man's man type and felt as a woman I was just around to fetch him coffee and be pretty. It's no excuse but my hormones were a little out of whack, I was tired, caffeine was out of the question. He grabbed my backside once and I politely asked him never to do it again. The next time he grabbed it I was a little more tired and simply reacted. I spun and slapped him across the jaw in front of another agent and all his deputies. It knocked him out. It was wrong of me to do and I know that. I have nothing but respect for the men and women we work with across the country. I've had unprofessional advances made at me before but that is the only time I have been so unprofessional in response. I regret it to this day, sir."

Captain Gibson stares at her, studying her much like a profiler studies a suspect. Emily allows the scrutiny.

"What happened to your face? Another advance rebuffed?"

Emily stiffens. "No, sir. A maniac high-jacked our jet carrying the entire team except me. With a small team back at Quantico we tracked down the man and I ended up in a one-on-one battle with him." She pauses. "I won."

Gibson stares at her a moment and grins slightly. "I'd hate to see what he looked like if that's what winning looks like."

Emily raises an eyebrow. "He's dead. Shot by a detective as he tried to pitch me off a roof."

Gibson's smile fades. "Oh." He stands. "I called back some of the other people on that list to ask about you specifically. They all sang your praises. Especially a guy down in Texas. Gruesome damn case that sounded like."

"It was."

"Yeah, well, I just wanted to apologize. I have…issues with the FBI. My own hang-ups and I won't get into it. I let one man out of 20 cloud my opinion of your team because he didn't like you. That was wrong. You and your team have done a hell of a job. Now, let's go bring this motherfucker to justice."

Emily smiles and nods. "Sounds like a good plan to me."

When Emily and Gibson finally get to the conference room, JJ gives her wife a questioning look, wondering why it took so long to return. Emily just gives her a wink and a nod, telegraphing that all is okay.


	15. Chapter 15

Evan Krautman is thumbing through one of his many books on murders. He looks at the collection of knickknacks he has. He picks up the nurse figurine.

"Mr. Speck, you killed a houseful of nurses. You're as good as me. Am I as good as you? Maybe."

He puts that down and picks up the clown. He shakes his head.

"I just can't do it, Gacy. I can't kill kids and do…those things to them. Sorry. You're just not the kind of killer I ever want to be."

He tosses the clown in the trash. He looks over at the crutches. He smiles.

"Not ready to try to honor you, Mr. Bundy. You, sir, were…wow, too amazing. How many did you really kill? Maybe someday we'll meet in Hell and you can tell me. I look forward to the day, sir."

He picks up the taxidermy fish. It was a pretty small fish and once he took it off the block of wood it dawned on Evan it was probably a child's catch.

"You were once some kid's pride and joy. And some parent cared enough to pay to get this piece of shit made for you. What made you get rid of it? Come to realize your parents are just assholes with power? Assholes able to send you away to Hell on Earth and expect you to be okay with it?"

The more he had talked, the angrier he had gotten. He nods as he stares at the fish.

"You're next, Mr. Ridgway. You're next."

He grabs another book and starts to read the passages he had highlighted regarding the many victims of the Green River Killer, particularly the woman found with a brown paper bag on her head and a fish on her neck and chest. He closes the book.

"I need another fish. Time to go shopping."

He walks out of his room and uses his key to lock it. As he walks into the living room his girlfriend looks up at him.

"Where you going?" she asks nervously.

"Didn't I tell you not to question me?" he growls.

She raises her hands instinctively in a defensive gesture. "Sorry, baby!" she whispers, her voice quavering. "I just, um, wanted to know, um, when you wanted dinner ready?"

"Have it ready at 6. No sooner."

"Yes, baby."

He grabs his keys and storms out the door. Yes, she was a good lay but she was getting boring. Might be time to find a new woman. This one would be just another dead whore. She wasn't worthy of being part of his celebration of greatness.

As he pulls up at the first junk shop where he'd found so many of his treasures he sees a police officer walk out. Could be nothing, could be something. He frowns.

"Sorry, Mr. Smythe, I won't be visiting with you today," Krautman mutters.

Instead he drives to a store he hadn't visited yet. As he strolls through the aisles and aisles of junk he doesn't notice the woman behind the counter glance at a piece of paper under the register. She stays calm, chewing her gum and playing on her cell phone. When he turns the corner to a different aisle she quickly types out a message to the store owner.

_"Mr. Jaffee, I think that guy the FBI warned us about is here. Call them! Hurry!"_

As the man walks up to the register she gives him a smile. "Find anything today?"

"Nope, not today," he says with a smile. "Looking for a particular gag gift. Some sort of fish statue or something. Buddy is retiring to spend his time fishing. We're all getting him cheesy things and one big present from the group."

She grins. "Neat. Uh, I think we have some salt and pepper shakers shaped like fish."

Evan nods. "Saw those. Not quite what I need. Thanks, though."

She nods as he leaves. She eases towards the window and sees him get into a dark colored Chevy SUV. She writes down the plate number and locks the front doors, spinning around the closed sign. If he comes back before the cops come no way in hell is he getting inside with her!

Evan goes to the next store with no idea the noose is slowly tightening around his neck.

* * *

Back at Sara Wilder's house she is shaking, trying to figure out how to get rid of Evan without him hurting her. She is considering just leaving when she sees his picture on the muted TV. She grabs the remote and turns up the volume.

"….Hotchner of the FBI. We are asking the public to be on the lookout for this man, Evan Krautman. The Syracuse police have been able to name him as a person of interest in a series of murders that have occurred here over the past few weeks. He is driving a dark blue Chevy Blazer, New York plates LDV-8890. He is considered armed and extremely dangerous. We ask that you call the police immediately if you see him or think you know where he may be. Do not, under any circumstances, approach him yourself. We believe he is currently living with a woman who may not know he is wanted. If you think you know her, please contact us so that we may warn her and protect her.

"We have established a hotline for any tips you may have regarding this man. Please call with any information you have. No lead is too small. Thank you."

Hotch turns and walks away from the podium. Sara is shaking. Evan. HER Evan was a wanted killer. Now she knows her worst fear is correct: he would never let her leave. She looks at the clock. It's just after 5. If he wants dinner at 6 he'll be home soon.

She leaps off the couch and grabs her purse and shoes. She races out of the door, praying he doesn't see her as she runs for the nearest store in the hopes of calling for help.


	16. Chapter 16

Squires runs into the conference room while Hotch is still speaking to the media. "We just got a call from a Lewis Jaffee. Owns a junk store and said his clerk thinks Krautman is in the store. Unit has been dispatched.

Morgan leaps up. "Let's go."

He follows Squires out the door. They haven't been gone long when another store owner calls to say Krautman had just left after buying an old fish statue.

"Definitely Ridgway," JJ says as she leaves with Dillon to follow up with that lead.

Five minutes after Hotch returns from the press conference one of the officers manning the tip line runs in.

"Got a woman named Sara Wilder who says she's Krautman's girlfriend. She's hiding in the back of a convenience store near their house. Says he was going to be home by 6." He hands Hotch Wilder's address and another paper with the store information on it.

Hotch looks at the team, handing Emily the store information. "Prentiss, get to the store and get her to safety. Get whatever information about him you can." She nods and races out the door. He looks at Captain Gibson. "Tell your SWAT team to mobilize one street over. We don't move in until we know he's there." Gibson nods. Hotch looks at Reid. "You stay with the vehicles. Your chest can't take another blow."

Reid nods. "Yes, sir."

"Rossi, if his SUV is there you and I will approach the house to determine if he is alone or not. There is a good chance he's collecting items for his next kill as well as his next victim. Let's make sure he doesn't get to claim another."

As Hotch drives Rossi calls Morgan and Reid calls JJ to let them know what's happening. When he hangs up, Rossi looks at Hotch.

"Krautman gave the clerk a song and dance about needing a gag retirement gift for a friend. Was looking for something bigger than fish shaped salt and pepper shakers. She locked the doors as soon as he left."

"Smart woman," Hotch says.

Reid hangs up with JJ. "He left the store about 15 minutes before JJ and Dillon got there. They're getting copies of the security video but the clerk confirms it was him."

"He told his girlfriend he wanted to eat at 6. I'd say he was going home now that his shopping is complete. Tonight he would be hunting. Gary Ridgway killed a lot of high risk women. Evan tried to emulate those with lower risk victims but he keeps going back to low risk. It's his comfort zone though he probably doesn't even realize it," Hotch concludes.

"He wants to be one of the great ones but is really just perfecting the gutter dwellers and cowards," Rossi sneers.

"They're all gutter dwellers and cowards," Reid insists. "He's worse because he's a copy cat even though he would never admit it."

Rossi and Hotch both nod, hoping this case ends soon.

* * *

Emily pulls into the parking lot of the convenience store and walks in. She shows her badge to the store manager.

"I'm Agent Prentiss. I'm here to see Sara Wilder."

The manager nods towards his office. "I told her to hide back there. She's terrified."

Emily nods. "She has a right to be."

Emily makes her way to the backroom. She slowly opens the door and sees the scared woman cowering in the corner. She holds up her badge.

"Sara? I'm Emily Prentiss with the FBI. I'm here to take you to the police station. You're safe now. I promise."

The scared woman leaps up and throws herself at Emily. Emily holds the sobbing woman, whispering words of comfort to her. Finally Sara is a little more in control. She looks at Emily with terrified green eyes.

"He…he would have killed me, wouldn't he?"

Emily takes a deep breath. "I…I don't know. For now let's just get you back to the station so you can tell us what you know."

Sara nods. Emily leads her to the doorway. The agent leans out and makes sure Krautman is not in the store. The manager waves her out.

"It's clear, Agent Prentiss."

Emily nods. "Thank you. Come on, Sara."

Emily walks to the door and looks out, scanning up and down the street. She had parked right in front of the door so it's just 5 feet to safety. She hits the remote to unlock the doors. She puts her arm around Sara and hustles her to the SUV and into the passenger seat. Emily jogs around the front of the car and gets in, immediately locking the doors.

As she pulls out to the road, Emily looks at Sara. "I'm going to call my boss. He needs to know about Evan, okay?" Sara nods. Emily hits speakerphone and puts her phone in the cup holder. "Hotch, I have Sara with me."

"Sara, I'm Agent Hotchner and- -"

"I saw you on the news," Sara interrupts.

"Yes, I was the one on the news," Hotch confirms. "Tell me, Sara, does Evan have any guns or other weapons?"

"I don't know. He has a room I'm not allowed in. He even put a special lock on the door even though I told him my landlord will freak about it."

Hotch nods. "I see. Where in the house is that room?"

"It's the first door on the- -OH MY GOD! IT'S HIM!"

Emily had seen the Chevy at the same time as Sara. "Take it easy, Sara. He doesn't know you're here."

"Talk to me, Prentiss," Hotch orders.

"Hotch, he's across the intersection from us as we're at a red light. Sara, slide down in the seat. Sara, listen to me: stop squirming. Get down to the floorboard and he won't see you. SARA!"

The woman is panicking. Emily reaches out and grabs her arm. "GET ON THE FLOORBOARD!"

Unfortunately, while watching Sara, Emily had missed the green light. The cars behind her start to honk. Evan looks over…and sees Sara. Emily sees him spot Sara.

"SHIT!"

She hits lights and sirens and jams her foot down on the gas pedal. She tears through the intersection, hoping Evan will just race to his house. Instead he pulls a U-Turn and starts to race after them.

"Son of a bitch! Hotch, he's chasing us!"

"Shit," Hotch blurts. "We're on our way. Keep us updated on where you are. You should be driving right at JJ and Dillon. I'll have Rossi call to see if they can intercept you."

"Fine. SARA, CALM DOWN!" Emily yells, one hand on the woman who is so scared she is trying to get out of the speeding SUV. Emily's other hand has a death grip on the steering wheel as she drives back towards the police station.

* * *

JJ answers her phone as she and Dillon are making their way to Krautman's. "Hey, Rossi, what's the word?"

"Emily has Sara Wilder but Krautman is chasing them. Sara's panicking. They should be coming right at you guys."

"Holy shit. I think I hear her sirens now." She looks at Dillon and relays the info. "We need to get in behind Krautman. If we can get him worried about us he may stop chasing Emily and Sara."

Dillon nods. He turns on his lights and sirens when he sees the speeding FBI vehicle. It flies past him. When Krautman blows by them he pulls a U-Turn and starts to follow. JJ sees Krautman glance into the rearview mirror.

"Rossi, he sees us but he's not breaking off his pursuit," JJ says after a few minutes.

"Emily's heading for the precinct. Gibson has already called ahead and put those there on alert. If he follows them there the police will be ready to stop him."

"Right. But if he- -OH SHIT! SARA JUST LEAPT OUT OF THE SUV! FUCK, ROSSI, WE'RE DOING 70! FUCK! KRAUTMAN HIT EMILY!"


	17. Chapter 17

Emily is trying everything she can to control Sara but the woman is convinced she has to get away from Emily or Evan will kill her. She's beyond reason as she punches Emily in her still healing right eye. When Emily's grip on Sara's arm weakens from the shock and pain, Sara pulls away, opens her door and leaps out of the speeding SUV.

"SARA! NO!"

Emily slams on her brakes. A second later her vehicle is rocked as Krautman slams into the back of it. Her head spinning, her eye exploding with pain, Emily pulls her gun and opens her door. She steps out and quickly moves to the safety of the front of her vehicle. She trains her gun on Krautman's smoking Chevy. She can see him moving slowly behind the steering wheel.

"EVAN KRAUTMAN! THIS IS THE FBI! PUT YOUR HANDS OUT THE WINDOW WHERE WE CAN SEE THEM!" she orders.

She breathes a sigh of relief when she sees Dillon come to a stop behind Krautman, angling his car so he and JJ can use it as a safety shield. They have also blocked in Krautman's Chevy on the off-chance he can get it running again.

Krautman glares at Emily through the windshield of his wrecked car. It's not going anywhere and he knows it. Now it's a choice: arrest and join the ranks of the great ones who died or are dying in jail, or death right here and now? He grins. If he dies, he can talk to his hero, Ted Bundy. His grin fades. But he never had a chance to honor Mr. Bundy. What if he doesn't want to speak to him? What if his Hell is that Mr. Bundy refuses to acknowledge him because he failed? If he lives, he can escape like Mr. Bundy and then he'll be worthy of him.

While he is considering all of this, Hotch, Morgan and the SWAT team had arrived. Hotch's SUV angles beside Dillon's car. Squires car angles beside Emily's SUV. Morgan races to Emily's side. Hotch is ordering Krautman to show his hands.

"Stand down, Prentiss. We have this now."

Emily nods and peels away from Krautman's line of sight. She looks around the passenger side of the SUV and sees Sara lying motionless between Krautman's car and Dillon's.

"Fuck," Emily mutters as she drops to the ground, leaning back against the front bumper.

"Evan Krautman," Hotch calls out a second time. "We repeat: stick your hands out the window where we can see them!"

Morgan stares at the man, trying to read his mind. Finally Krautman reaches his hands out the window. Hotch nods at Gibson. Two SWAT team members move to the car and drag Krautman out, cuffing him in the street as they start to pat him down. Seeing the prisoner secure, Morgan drops down beside Emily but she is already pushing to her feet when she hears the first call of "CLEAR."

She runs back towards the motionless woman on the ground. JJ gets there first.

"WE NEED AN AMBULANCE!" JJ looks up at Emily. "She's alive."

Emily covers her face with her hands. "Oh, thank God. I…I couldn't hold her. I tried, I swear I tried."

Dillon nods. "We know, Agent Prentiss. We saw her when you passed us. You did a hell of a job considering."

As EMT's arrive Hotch walks up to Emily. "You need to get checked out, too."

Emily shakes her head. "No, I'm fine. Really."

"Em, your eye wasn't nearly swollen shut earlier," JJ points out.

Emily brings her hand up and gingerly feels her eye. "Oh. Right. She punched me because I wouldn't let go of her arm." She glances at the woman being strapped to a backboard. "It got me to let go. Shit. What a cluster fuck. I should have known she was in no shape to be moved."

"Hindsight is 20/20, Prentiss. You know that," Morgan says. "Had Krautman stopped for beer or cigarettes or anything it would have turned that store into a shooting gallery."

Emily looks at Morgan. "He had a gun?"

Morgan nods. "A .44 in his jeans."

"Shit."

JJ grabs Emily's arm. "Come on. Let's get you to the hospital. Standard protocol since you were in an accident."

Emily nods. "Right. Sure. Okay. Damn, Jen, if she dies…"

"She won't, Em. Let's go."

JJ takes Emily to the second ambulance and gets her inside. JJ rides with her to the hospital.

Morgan looks at the crumpled SUV. Rossi pats his shoulder.

"Sorry, kid, that one's fixable. You're still the only agent who totaled one."

Morgan just laughs and walks away to let the locals do what they need to do with the scene.

* * *

An hour later Emily is staring at an eye chart. "Uh, nope, can't read that line. Damn it! Not again. My kids are going to think this fucking swollen eye is a permanent thing!"

The ophthalmologist smiles. "The good news is the damage isn't permanent. The fact that you can make out even a little bit of that line means the eye is fine it's just the lids making things blurry. A little ibuprofen and an icepack and the swelling will be gone in a few days."

Emily nods. "Yeah, yeah, I know the drill."

"Uh, the other bruising?"

"Not from this accident."

"Okay. What happened?"

"I had a hangnail," Emily grumps.

"Easy, Agent Prentiss," JJ says warningly. She looks at the doctor. "Fight with a kidnapper about 2 weeks ago. That's when the eye was initially injured, too."

"Ah, okay. Well, from what I can see she will be fine in a few days. I'll check with the other ER doc and make sure he's done with her. If you all are the ones on the news that stopped that psycho I just want to say thanks."

JJ nods. "Glad we could help. Your police department did a great job."

He grins. "Good to know."

Emily stops him before he can go. "Hey, uh, another woman came in ahead of me. Sara Wilder. Can you find out if she's okay?"

He nods. "Sure. Back in a few."

Once they are alone, JJ looks at her wife. "No matter what happens, it's not your fault, Em. She chose to panic and jump."

"She was terrified, Jen. I should have had her laying down in the back or something."

"We needed information from her. She was giving Hotch what they needed to take down Krautman. It was just a crazy quirk of fate that put you all at opposite red lights."

Emily thinks on that a minute before meeting her wife's eyes. "I'll let you know when I believe that."

JJ nods and pulls her wife into a hug. "Believe this: I love you, Emily Prentiss."

Emily draws strength from her wife. "I love you, Jennifer Prentiss. Thank you."

Their hug ends a few minutes later when Emily's initial doctor comes in. "The eyeball guy says you're good to go. You seem fine to me, too. Just ibuprofen and ice packs until the swelling goes down."

"Do you know anything about Sara Wilder?" Emily asks, not caring about her own diagnosis.

He nods, smiling. "She'll be fine. Broken arm, broken pelvis but no internal injuries. Mild concussion. She woke up long enough to ask for her parents to be called. Turns out she's been estranged from them for some time. They are on their way."

Emily manages a smile. "That's great. Tell her I hope she gets better soon."

He nods. "I'll pass it on. Let me get your paperwork turned in and you'll be good to go."

Twenty minutes later the two agents head out to the waiting area. They are surprised to find Reid waiting for them.

"Dillon got called in to start questioning Krautman so Hotch sent me after you."

Emily looks at JJ. "He wants me dead, doesn't he?" she jokes.

Reid rolls his eyes. "One accident! I only had one accident!"

JJ grabs the keys. "Let's not go for two. Come on, my nerdlings."

Emily wraps her arm around Reid's shoulder as they follow JJ out to the SUV.

* * *

At the precinct, Rossi, Dillon and Squires sit across from a smiling Evan Krautman. He is studying all the pictures from his five murder scenes.

"They are beautiful, aren't they?" he sighs dreamily.

"I've seen better," Rossi shrugs. "The first movie is always better than the sequel."

Krautman grins. "Not always. Many people say the second 'Godfather' was the best."

Rossi chuckles. "You're no 'Godfather, Part 2', Krautman. You're hardly worthy of being called a copycat."

Krautman bristles. "I am MORE than a copycat! I showed them I am worthy of being said in the same breath as them! When people think murder they will think Bundy, Ridgway, Rader, DeSalvo, Krautman. My name will be up there with theirs!"

Rossi had seen the man's lair of death. He knows how much he loves Ted Bundy. Rossi grins.

"Look, kid, I've met Ridgway and Bundy. You aren't worthy to shine their shoes! Ridgway, maybe. But Bundy? He wouldn't take the time to spit on you if you were burning."

Krautman sits up straighter, making eye contact with Rossi for the first time. "You…you met Mr. Bundy?"

"Yeah, I met him. He had what you don't have and never will. You'll never have it."

"What?! What did he have?! What do I need?!" he asks desperately.

Rossi just grins. "If you have to ask, it's unattainable." Rossi leans back in his seat. "Heck, I'm beginning to think you didn't even commit these murders. I don't think you have it in you. I mean, you couldn't control your girlfriend. You couldn't even stop that chick cop who had her. These men could all control women. You can't."

Krautman is furious. He slams his hands on the table. "I CAN CONTROL MY WOMAN! I DID STOP THAT BITCH COP! I KILLED THESE PEOPLE! THEY ARE MINE! I DID IT!"

Rossi leans forward, challengingly. "Prove it."

And for the next 4 hours, Krautman does just that. When he finishes, Rossi and the detectives walk out of the interrogation room. Squires pats Rossi on the back.

"You baited him better than a donut baits a bear, Agent Rossi. He couldn't wait to tell you everything to prove you wrong."

Rossi grins. "He was an egomaniac at heart. He wanted the credit for those kills and he was more worried about not getting that acknowledgement than he was about going to jail for them."

"And are _you_ worried about what might happen if you ever call me a 'chick cop' again?" Emily asks from behind Rossi.

Rossi turns and grins. "It was just a tactic, Emily."

"Right. If I had both eyes I'd be glaring at you," she warns him.

He chuckles. "No offense intended. I fear you and your wife as much as I respect you."

Emily grins. "Smart man. You're forgiven." She pauses. "This time." She pats him on the shoulder. "Good job in there, Rossi."

"Thanks. Wilder?"

"Couple broken bones, concussion, lots of bruises but she's going to be fine," she tells him.

"Good. And you?"

"Just the eye. Again."

"Well, you wear it better than most, kid."

Emily chuckles. "Thanks. I think."

Rossi looks back at Squires. "By the way, Bundy is his king. He'll probably try to escape to be just like his idol."

Squires nods. "Good to know. We'll make sure Corrections knows, too."

They make their way to the conference room where everyone is packing up. Hotch looks at Rossi.

"Full confession?"

"Down to the way he made the badge he used to talk his way into houses," Rossi confirms.

"Good. Plane leaves tomorrow morning. Anyone up for a late dinner?"

Emily shakes her head. "You all go on. I'll order room service. My head is pounding."

JJ wraps an arm around her wife's waist. "I'll take Crash back to the hotel and keep an eye on her. You all enjoy."

Emily just chuckles, not at all caring about the new nickname. Earlier they had talked to Henry who had excitedly called her Batman. That's the only nickname that matters to her.


	18. Chapter 18

When they get to the hotel, Emily drops down onto the bed as JJ takes charge, ordering the comfort special. She then crawls onto the bed beside her wife, holding her close. They lay in silence, both contemplating the end of the case.

"I thought she was dead, Jen," Emily finally says softly.

"Me, too, honey. But she's not. And she's got a long road to recovery but she's going to make it."

"Yeah." Emily turns to look at her wife. "He's happy about the killings. He's proud of them. How does a bad childhood turn to that? How? I mean, Declan goes to a boarding school but he's not a killer in training."

"From the sound of it, the place Krautman was sent was more a…a scared straight kind of thing and it went horribly bad. Reid had Garcia look it up. It was closed after 2 years due to charges of abuse." She strokes a hand through Emily's hair. "Declan's school is nothing like that place, Em."

Emily nods. "Good."

JJ reluctantly releases her wife when their dinner arrives. They eat mostly in silence. As Emily slurps down the last of her chocolate shake she sighs. JJ smiles at her.

"Better?"

Emily nods. "Better. Just had to…stew it out a bit I guess."

"I know, baby. How about we clear this off, watch a cheesy movie and cuddle some?"

Emily smiles. "Sounds good."

JJ places the tray outside the room as Emily goes to the bathroom. When Emily comes back out she is naked. She walks up behind her wife and wraps her arms around her, kissing her neck. JJ moans at the touch.

"Your idea was good," Emily whispers. She kisses JJ's neck once more, her hand stroking up her wife's sides. "But I think I have a better one."

JJ spins in her wife's arms, giving her a deep kiss. "Who am I to argue with a nerd?"

Emily smiles as together they get the blonde undressed. JJ backs her wife to the bed. Her hands trace over the brunette's body, noting the new bruise from the seatbelt. She slowly shakes her head.

"What am I going to do with you, Emily?"

Emily strokes a hand down JJ's cheek. "Make love to me?"

JJ chuckles. "I thought the answer was 'Never let me go'?"

Emily grins. "That, too. But I feel needy tonight."

JJ gives her a quick kiss. "Okay, I can probably do both."

Emily smiles. "Lucky me."

She lies back on the bed, pulling her wife down on top of her. JJ carefully kisses every inch of the seatbelt bruise. Emily moans at the gentle care. JJ starts to kiss her way down Emily's right arm. They way she shifts, their hard nipples rub each other, making both women groan and become wetter.

When JJ's mouth reaches her wife's hand she kisses the palm before sucking each individual finger. Emily had mentioned to Morgan that her arm and hand was sore from trying to hold onto Sara Wilder. After JJ finishes kissing the pain away, she shifts to look into her wife's eyes.

"How…did you know?" Emily whispers, recognizing what JJ had been doing.

JJ smiles. "I heard you mention it. I plan to kiss all your pain away."

Emily smiles and pulls her down into a deep kiss. "Thank you."

"No thanks needed. I love you."

"I love you- -OH!" Emily arches up as JJ's mouth moves to her breasts.

JJ spends a great deal of time with them, grinding her thigh against her wife's pumping center as she kisses, sucks and nips the hard nubs over and over again.

Emily is overcome with desire. She can't speak, can't even beg for more. She takes one of JJ's hands and brings it down between them. JJ lifts her eyes as Emily forces both their hands into herself.

"Ohhhh…" the brunette moans.

JJ takes her hand back and starts to thrust into her wife with two fingers. Emily meets each thrust. Her eyes are clamped closed in anticipation of the deeper, faster thrusts she knows are coming.

"Look at me, Emily. Watch me love you," JJ orders.

Emily opens her good eye and stares into eyes nearly black with love and desire. JJ brings her head back to her wife's chest, sucking a nipple in quickly as she rams into her.

"JEN! YES!" Emily shouts as her hips start to race to keep up with the pace JJ is setting. "So…fucking…GOOOOOD! OHHH!"

When she feels her wife close, JJ slides down, sucking the throbbing jewel between her wife's legs into her mouth as she thrusts 4 fingers in deep.

"JEN! LOVE! YOU! YESSSSSSSSSSS!"

JJ reaches down and with just a couple of flicks of her own clit follows her wife over the edge, shouting her pleasure against her wife's center, which sends Emily over once more.

JJ lays her head on Emily's stomach as they both try to control their breathing. She runs a hand lazily up and down the toned thigh beside her.

"I love you, Emily. I love you so much."

Emily slowly draws her fingers through the golden locks spread out on her hip. "Te amo, Jen. Tu eres mi mundo. Ahora y para siempre."

JJ smiles, knowing Emily had unconsciously slipped into the Spanish that is reserved just for her. She crawls up so she can pull Emily close.

"I never thought to dream up someone like you. Thank you for coming true anyway."

Emily smiles as JJ gives her a deep, loving kiss. "De nada, Jennifer. Mi corazón es tuyo para siempre, mi amor."*

JJ stares into her wife's eyes, smiling. "You really don't know, do you?"

"Que?" Emily asks sleepily.**

JJ just kisses her again. "I'll tell you tomorrow. You need sleep now. I love you, baby."

Emily pulls her close and kisses her temple. "Te amo, Jennifer. Te amo."

Soon Emily's breathing evens out as she falls asleep. JJ stays awake a while longer, just enjoying being in her wife's arms.

* * *

**Per Babylon Translator (and my college Spanish):**

*** It's nothing, Jennifer. My heart is yours forever, my love.**

**** What?**


	19. Chapter 19

At the precinct the next morning the team is packing up to leave. Captain Gibson walks up to Emily and extends his hand. She takes it.

"Damn fine job, Agent Prentiss. Not many people could have handled a vehicle while struggling with a panicking woman, let alone set up a controlled accident the way you did. Damn fine job indeed."

Emily smiles and nods. "Thank you, Captain. I only wish things could have ended better for Sara Wilder."

"Word has it she'll be fine. Her parents arrived last night and surprised her by caring more about her than about the crap that drove them apart. Hopefully that won't change."

"I'll keep my fingers crossed for her."

Gibson grins. "Just don't cross your eyes. Not sure your right one could handle the strain."

Emily bursts out laughing and nods. "You're probably right about that."

"Well, here's hoping if we ever cross paths again it will be at a conference. I hope you understand if I don't want to have to work with you all again."

Emily nods. "We understand."

Gibson turns to JJ, who along with the others had been watching the exchange. "Uh, Agent Jareau, if you need another name for your reference list you can use mine. I'll be happy to tell people I wasn't too happy to bring you in but was proven wrong." She smiles and nods. He looks at the others. "You all are a class group of people and it was an honor to work with you."

Hotch steps forward and shakes his hand. "Thank you, Captain. I'm just glad we could help."

"Me, too. I'm sorry about the trouble when you first arrived. I was wrong. Thank you for not letting my bull-headedness cause more death."

Hotch nods, smiling kindly. "Apology accepted."

* * *

An hour later the team is settling onto the jet for the flight home. Emily has already staked out the couch as her body was feeling a bit achy from the wreck. As he walks by to grab a bottle of water Morgan leans down, grinning.

"Thin walls, Porn Star," he whispers.

Emily blushes and smacks him in the shoulder. He just walks away chuckling. JJ glances at her wife.

"Do I want to know?"

"No, Jen, you really, really don't," Emily assures her.

JJ just shakes her head as Morgan sits down across from her, still grinning as he puts his headphones on and closes his eyes. JJ turns back to her wife and strokes a hand over her hair.

"Rest, baby. We can kick his ass later."

Emily laughs as Morgan just opens one eye, still chuckling about what he's teasing Emily about. Something only suspected until her reaction. Yep, he's proud of himself.

* * *

When they arrive back at Quantico, the members of the team file to their desks and offices hoping to check a few emails, check mail and get their desks in order for the next day.

Emily has finished her email and turned to the mail. She slices open the third envelope and pulls out a single sheet of paper with just a few lines typed on it.

_I'm at work again. See you soon. _

_Sincerely, _

_The Greatest Serial Killer You Will NEVER Know._

"SON OF A BITCH!" Emily yells, slamming her fist into her desk. "STUPID SON OF A FUCKING BITCH!"

JJ races over. "What's wrong?"

Emily throws the letter at her and storms down to Garcia's office. She races in just as Garcia finishes stowing the gear she had taken with her.

"The Puppet Master is at work somewhere in Utah. He fucking sent me a letter."

Garcia nods and immediately gets a computer searching for unusual murders in Utah.

"Garcia, expand the search to all states around Utah," Hotch says as he and JJ walk in.

Emily spins towards him. "What?"

"Em, he may not have mailed it from where he's really working," JJ explains.

Emily runs a hand through her hair. "Shit. You're right."

"No problem, I'll get it running," Garcia promises. "We'll find him, Em. We will," she says confidently.

Emily just nods, telling herself not to let this guy get under her skin…and failing at following her own advice. She runs a hand over her forehead. The headache that had been just an annoyance since the day before is threatening to go into a full blown migraine. JJ reaches out and stops her from pacing.

"Emily, let it go for now. There's nothing we can do until either Garcia's searches give us something to look into or…or he sends us a newspaper clipping," JJ says calmly.

Emily looks from JJ to Hotch, who is staring at her with concern. She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.

"My money's on Garcia to find him before he contacts us again," Emily says confidently. "That still means at least 2 people have to die to give us a potential pattern. I hate feeling this damn helpless."

Hotch nods. "We all do. But he's thrown the gauntlet down. This time we pick it up and crush him with it."

Emily nods. "Damn right we do."

"Go finish clearing your desk and go spend time with your kids. We'll be leaving again as soon as we know where he is. He is now our priority," Hotch states.

The two agents nod and go back to their desks as Hotch stays to help Garcia refine her search. They find Rossi, Reid and Morgan in the bullpen. They look at the Prentiss women expectantly. They had heard Emily's rant and all had read the letter.

"Garcia's trying to find any sign of him. Right now it's a waiting game," Emily tells them. She takes the letter back from Morgan and tacks it to the wall of her cubicle. "We're going to find you this time, you bastard. This time we _will_ get to know you," she vows.

Morgan steps up behind best friend. "He wants either you or JJ, Emily."

Emily shakes her head. "Don't be a fool, Morgan. He doesn't care which one of us he kills. It's a challenge to all of us. He'll go after you as soon as us if he has a chance. He scores against us every time he gets away with a series of killings. But he beats us, all of us, if he kills one of us. That's his ultimate goal: one of us dead and his series of murders still on the open books." She turns and looks him in the eyes. "You know I'm right."

Morgan thinks about it a minute before nodding. "Sadly…yeah, I do."

Rossi steps forward. "I don't know about anyone else but I'm done for the day. See you all tomorrow."

One by one everyone leaves until only JJ and Emily are still in the bullpen. JJ grabs her go bag and purse.

"Let's go, Emily. Time to go home to let Henry and Rocky heal our mental wounds."

Emily stops staring at the letter on her wall and nods. "Yeah…yeah that sounds perfect," she says softly.

She grabs her bags and follows her wife to the elevator.

"I lied to Morgan, Jen. He wants us. He'll settle for them but that bastard wants you and me more."

"I know. Morgan knows, too. Turn it off for now, honey. Let it go until we actually have something to concentrate on."

Emily nods, hoping she can do what her wife wants.

* * *

**A/N: Due to a minor obsession with "Plants vs. Zombies" I am still working on the next installment. Hopefully I will be posting it by Saturday…unless the Zombies really do eat my brains. :o) **


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